Double Trouble

Another Ripping Yarn

Crime pays in spades for the perpetrators when Susie and Jeffrey are taken for a ride.

"Any other bright ideas?"

"Yes, failing that, we'll bop him over the head with a blunt instrument - the blunter the better."

"We haven't got an instrument, Susie - blunt or otherwise."

"The wheel brace, Jeffrey - and we'll get out the jack as well. I've just dreamt up a super enhancement to my latest cunning plan."

"That seems barely possible, Susie. What is it?"

"We'll pretend we kicked over the jack and dropped the taxi on Willy while he was inspecting the spondulicks. That'll prove to Wally we're as ruthless as he is."

"Except we don't have a gun," I objected, hurrying after her to the back of the van.

"We won't need one; that's the beauty of my scheme. We'll wait until Wally bends down to pull out his beloved Willy, and then - Kapow!"

"What if Wally's so ruthless, he doesn't care what's happened to his beloved Willy?"

"No man's that ruthless, Jeffrey."

 

 

 

 

Chapter 113

"Hurry up, Susie," I urged, as I danced my way between the freshly formed puddles chequering the promenade. "It'll be October before we get home if you keep on dillying and dallying."

"I can't help myself, Jeffrey - I'm transfixed by your wiggling and waggling."

"Oh, why didn't you say!" I came back down to earth and adopted a more modest gait.

"Don't stop, Miss High Heels - I'm delighting in the view from behind. Your hippy hippy shake has a wanton effect on me."

"Well, it's completely unintentional. I'm preoccupied thinking on higher things."

"Knickers, Jeffrey."

"That's the problem, Susie - explaining to mum how I fell into this risque pair - not to mention the rest of the outfit."

"And what unlikely story have you dreamt up?"

"I'll add my voice to yours, Jeffrey, by singing from the same song sheet.

"It's you, Susie," I blushed. "Will you give over and get a move on, or we'll be duetting in the rain."

"Not for long, little Miss Sunshine - the outlook is changeable." I took Susie by the arm, and picked up the pace. "Let's find some transport before the next downpour arrives."

"The clouds will soon roll by; it was only a passing squall."

"A minor deluge, and another one's heading towards us." I pointed out to sea at the black curtain sweeping in from the horizon. "Come on, before it gives you an excuse to go shopping again."

"Don't blame me, Jeffrey - I wanted to run for the taxis, but you turned tail and scampered off in the opposite direction. What a fuss over a few raindrops falling on your head."

"It's all right for you in your Susie suit," I pouted, "but my flimsy finery isn't designed for a windy, storm-lashed prom. It's almost see-through, dry; I daren't imagine what it'll look like wet - it might even dissolve."

"It's your own fault, Jeffrey; you spurned the chance of getting kitted out in the latest autumn fashions, by charging past Debenhams. You nearly pulled my arm from its socket."

"Sorry, Susie, but I didn't want to risk an impulse buy."

"You'd have been okay, guided by me."

"That's what I feared; I've given mum enough shocks this week."

"I don't know what you mean, Jeffrey; I'm a style guru. Snug and form-fitting - that's the trend. You could have gone home, tres chic, all neat in black stockings and tweed two-piece."

"You're right - it was a missed opportunity," I admitted. "Especially since Debenhams has a department devoted to my favourite designer label."

Susie gave me a sceptical look. "Oh, and what's that, Jeffrey?"

"Diesel, of course," I smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes, dese'll do," I laughed, skipping out Susie's reach. "And I wish you'd follow my example. Clothes lose their value faster than cars. Charity shops are full of last season's stuff."

"And we could have taken advantage of the fact, Jeffrey. I was more than willing to cross the road and have a root round in Oxfam, but you wouldn't budge. Going on about money burning a hole in my pocket," Susie huffed. "I'm thrift personified."

"Who still managed to squander some of our hard-won cash," I chided. "And it didn't even go to a good cause - why you had to pick on that place, I don't know."

"You've no reason to complain, Jeffrey. I did you a favour, getting you under cover, or you'd have been chilled to the asparagus tips."

"We were okay sheltering in the doorway - until you had to poke your nose over the threshold. Just for an exploratory sniff, you said."

"You were the first to accept when we were invited in."

"I felt too embarrassed to refuse, Susie. The poor man was so desperate for customers that he all but begged us to sample his delights."

"Well, it turned out to be a serendipitous diversion. I found exactly what we need and a bargain to boot."

"Only to somebody born yesterday," I snorted. "If you wanted to buy your uncle a present, you should have got him a practical one - like a chocolate teapot. Your choice of gift won't be appreciated; it'll go straight into the green wheelie bin. It's money down the pan."

"We're flush, Jeffrey - don't be such a blue meany. We can afford to invest a little of our good fortune for the benefit of others. Remember, it is more blessed to give than to receive."

"I've no argument with you there," I frowned, distastefully regarding the beribboned wicker basket Susie had hampered me with. "You couldn't resell this stuff on eBay," I muttered. "That's how crap it is."

"It's the thought that counts, Jeffrey. I'm beginning to dread buying you a Christmas present - you're so hard to please."

"I'm sorry, Susie, but the sooner we pass this parcel, the happier I'll feel."

"Then don't dawdle, Jeffrey - let's quickstep to the taxis. I can't wait to see the look on Uncle Frank's face when I hand it over. It'll confound his opinion of me."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised, Susie. Perhaps you should have second whims about your intended peace offering."

"It was a spur of the moment inspiration, Jeffrey - they never let me down."

"But are you sure this one's such a good idea, Susie? Your uncle could take your gift the wrong way, and even if he doesn't, it's scant compensation for making him homeless."

"It's an ex gratia pressie, not an admission of guilt - and carefully considered."

"On the spur of the moment."

"That's how my mind works, Jeffrey."

"I wish it had worked to save us from a future soaking, Susie. You should have bought your uncle a giant golf umbrella."

"With his bad back, Jeffrey - show some tact. We don't want to remind unky of that other unfortunate incident; it'd defeat the whole purpose."

"This'll put out more than a disc or two. I wouldn't even give him a Harrod's hamper of the stuff - it has definite unsavoury overtones."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, Jeffrey - it's quite the opposite, and an apposite choice for the man who had everything."

"Your uncle won't think so, Susie; he'll get the message - loud and clear."

"Will you stop going on about it - it's not as if it's a pound of tripe."

"No, it's two pounds of overripe cheddar. Apart from a novelty stick of Shoreham rock, you couldn't bring him back a cheesier souvenir."

"You can say that again, Jeffrey. It's Grandma Singleton's Beacon Fell, the Rolls Royce of Lancashire cheeses - and a more than generous helping to belt. Uncle Frank will have to let out his cummerbund a good few notches to finish this in one sitting."

"There's enough here to last a fortnight, and it already smells whiffy. He won't have to worry about doing his bally bottom button up, because he'll need a peg on his nose to get this lot down."

"It's not as bad as your winkles," Susie sniffed. "And I'm giving it to someone in rude good health, not a sickly convalescent."

"There was nothing wrong with them," I maintained. "Until they got badly overheated, they were as fresh as your lilies."

"And so is this - it's direct from the cow's udder, possessing its own unique bouquet. That's what the man in the shop said, and he's an expert - a cheese whiz."

"Cheese whiz or not, he won't stay in business for long. No one can make a living mongering fine cheeses in Shoreham - it's a burger and kebab town."

"Don't be such a snob, Jeffrey."

"I'm not - and they wouldn't buy this cheese in St Annes. It's miles past the best before date; that's why you got it cheap."

"I had to beat him down."

"No, you didn't - and he'd have thrown in the dinky gift basket, anyway."

"But not the extra set of scarlet ribbons to put in your hair."

"Which I should never have agreed to, Susie. I've been attracting some very strange glances from gentlemen of a certain age."

"Well, there's no need take it out on the cheese, Lolita. It's an extra mature cheddar, and famously strong - so that'll be a best after date. It's what the aristocracy call well-hung; that's how they like all their grub - fully flavoured."

"And I suppose the Queen sends the royal wheelbarrow round the back of Asda every Friday night to collect the week's leftovers."

"Waitrose, Jeffrey, and this cheese is exactly the sort of overpriced, smelly luxury their customers pay through the nose for. You don't get that class of thing at school dinners, even when they're served by celebrity chefs. It's a gourmet's delight."

"It might have been - once upon a time - now it's green and dying."

"A little bit of decorative mould won't bother Uncle Frank; he has a stomach like an ostrich. And what's more important," Susie emphasised, "it's free."

"His eyes aren't that much hungrier than his belly, and he'll be suspicious of anything coming from you, Susie. Why take the risk of upsetting him?"

"Because 'Compromise' is my middle name, Jeffrey."

"I won't argue with you there, Susie."

"And neither will Uncle Frank - this little something will show I'm big enough to forgive him the unwarranted accusations he directed my way."

"They were true, Susie."

"But he didn't know that - he jumped to conclusions."

"The right ones."

"That's neither here nor there."

"His house isn't."

"You're missing the point, Jeffrey - Uncle Frank would have suspected me whether I'd done it or not; that's why his place is in the wrong."

"I can't help thinking there's a flaw in your argument."

"But not in unky's house." Susie slapped me on the bottom in glee.

"Ooooohhhh!"

"Unky will jump for joy as well, when he feasts his greedy eyes on this tasty treat."

"He'll be as sick as a parrot and over the moon."

"That's where he would have been, but for our timely intervention, Jeffrey. His stately pile was a gas bottle waiting to explode. We did him a big favour, saving his life and ensuring he has a brick rubble insurance claim."

"Maybe so, but we can only hope he never finds out who he has to thank for his good fortune."

"He won't, and my generous gesture will cheer him up no end and banish his brooding."

"You can ply your uncle with all the cheese in the world, Susie, but it still won't be difficult to distinguish between him and a ray of sunshine."

"Trust me, Jeffrey, the jolly embalmer's face will light up when I say, 'Here you are, you great big onion, put this on your toasting fork and heat it'."

"You're brimful of mischief, Susie."

"Shine our buttons with Brasso, if we're both not, Jeffrey."

"Later, Susie - and you'd best turn down the cheekometer," I advised, as we crossed over to the taxi rank. "It's time to see if we can charm another on the list of Lancashire cabmen."

"Oooooooowww! Don't twiddle it, Jeffrey. You're making it worse."

"Just testing, Susie."

"Ooooww!"

"It's okay - it's moving a full 360 degrees. There's no permanent damage."

"Are you sure? I gave it an almighty whack."

"Nothing's broken - you'll soon be as good as new."

"It doesn't feel that way, Jeffrey."

"Don't worry, Susie, our dancing days aren't over before they've begun. You can still look forward to whirling me around in ever more fantastic frocks."

"Only after some tender loving care, Jeffrey, because I'm badly bruised, at the very least."

"You're still in the pink - there isn't a trace of purple."

"That's what you think - I'll have to hirple."

"See, you're already back to your old creative self, Susie. Let's hear you rhyme 'crimson', 'silver', and 'orange' for good measure."

"It's not funny, Jeffrey - I put my foot on the line for you."

"And I appreciate your efforts." I finished massaging Susie's big toe and slipped her sock and shoe back on. "That little piggy's fit to go home now - just don't kick any more car tyres while you're wearing these pumps."

"I was severely provoked, Jeffrey. The HP sauce of it - refusing our fare. After today's experiences, I'm totally disillusioned with taxi-drivers. They must be making an extra strong mint if every single one of them can turn away lucrative custom like ours."

"I suppose they weren't so keen because it's getting late, and they don't want to miss out on the Illuminations trade."

"There's no excuse for such reprehensible behaviour, Jeffrey. They have the ethics of bankers - leaving two vulnerable young girls stranded, miles from home, in the middle of somewhere. The vampire squids should hang their heads in shame."

"Have squids got necks?"

"Their tentacles, then - the bloody leeches."

"Never mind, Susie, it'll be an extra twenty pounds towards your car," I comforted her. "And two little girls can have more fun sitting on the backseat of a tram."

"A shake, rattle, and roll Denise's bottom will have to miss out on, Jeffrey - we don't want to risk curdling Uncle Frank's cheese. Let's shuffle off and get the bus."

"Okay - it won't be so romantic, but, as compensation, we can save even more money by walking on to the next stop along."

"And the next one after that - and then the next. Don't try and trick me into yomping all the way home, Jeffrey. I know your game - you're hoping to pick up Ernie's broken bike."

"It's my James the red bike, Susie, and it may be closer than you think."

"No, Jeffrey - I've had enough of hiking all over this week."

"I'll buy you some herbal bath salts."

"You're not punning me into it."

"All right, one stop only." I conceded, helping Susie up from the seat. "Come on, before there's another cloudburst." I linked arms and, giving her no time to argue, headed north in search of my abandoned bike.

"Shimmy as we go, and see if you can lure an unsuspecting taxi-driver into extending his services to us."

"I don't want to get into a car with somebody fascinated by my derriere," I objected. "Apart from you, that is."

"Thank you, Jeffrey, now pick up your heels and prance over the cracks. We might still attract a ride before the rain comes down, especially if you throw in a little lamppost dancing along the way."

"Why not? I am dressed for it, and mum will be delighted to hear of my latest hobby."

"Off you go, then, and give it your best shot. You never know our luck."

"I have nothing to say," I huffed, and hoped my silence spoke volumes.

Alas, strutting in high heels makes it hard to keep your tooshie from talking. Manfully, I put my wiggle behind me, and thought on higher things. "12, 21, 20, 19, B, 21 ..."

"What are you mumbling at, Jeffrey."

"I'm turning licence plate letters into numbers, and vice-versa."

"I really do worry about your unhealthy obsession with digits, Jeffrey," Susie sighed. "But that could prove a useful asset in future - our private detectiving skills will nicely complement each other."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Susie - I don't think we have any."

"I can read people like a book, Jeffrey."

"So you've said, Susie - it must be a gift."

"And we'll put it to good use - I can see our card in the Post Office window now. 'Smith and Jones - Discreet Enquiries Our Speciality - Results Guaranteed'. How does that sound?"

"I'm not too sure about the 'discreet'."

"We'll spell it 'ete' - that'll give us a get-out clause if, by some mischance, things go boobs-up."

"Then you'd best put - 'Consequences Guaranteed', just to be on the safe side. Events have a way of escalating out of control with us."

"I don't think we should advertise the fact, Jeffrey, but I'm pleased you're entering into the spirit of things," Susie smiled. "Have you any other helpful suggestions?"

"None that would stop you. Have you any other bright ideas?"

"Yes, we'll stick up our cards in Thornley Tesco's as well. We don't want to miss out on the toff end of the market. That's where family skeletons and dastardly deeds proliferate, Jeffrey - behind the net curtains."

"And if we ascend to those dizzy heights, Susie, there's always the prospect of a millionaire hiring us to track down their missing prize dog."

"No pet work, Jeffrey - or divorce work - or debt work."

"I can't see there being much demand in that case."

"You may have a point," Susie frowned. "Perhaps we should widen our horizons - we could advertise in dad's mag."

"It'll be a waste of space - you said people only read that for the jokes and letters to the editor."

"We'll use our imagination and make it intriguing." Susie paused for a second and carefully considered the matter. "I've got it! 'Box 13 - Do Anything - Go Anywhere'."

"Within biking distance."

"Bussing distance, Jeffrey, and it'll be no handicap. There was an American detective who went everywhere on the bus. The Big O - Georgy Orwell - a shabby beggar who dressed like a tramp. Dad identified with him because he had a wonky knee and limped a bit for sympathy."

"You're smart and fully mobile, so you'll be two up on him there."

"Even so, we mustn't get overconfident, Jeffrey."

"Heaven forefend, Susie."

"It'd be wise to put in some deducing practice before we start."

"Oh, do you fancy a few games of Mastermind?"

"No, that's tediously abstract - and you always win. We need something with more of a real-life scenario. How about challenging dad and Mikey to a game of Cluedo?"

"That's never really appealed to me."

"It will now you can put on your blonde wig and dress up as Miss Scarlet, my ditzy secretary."

"Ditzy?"

"Yes, it'll do you good to have a break from all that numberfying. And you can slip in a soupcon of sultry when dad's not looking."

"I'd still prefer Monopoly, Susie. People get much more upset when they lose all their worldly goods, and I take real pleasure in bankrupting folk."

"I can well believe it, Jeffrey. Ending up in charge of all the cash is just the kind of thing that would appeal to you."

"The best strategy is to start by building hotels on the oranges."

"The best strategy is to cheat, Jeffrey."

"Only when all else fails, Susie - or there's real money at stake."

"Uncle Frank fancies himself as a bridge player. We could relieve him of a few more pounds if you've a winking, blinking, and nod system for that as well as chess, Jeffrey."

"Forget it, Susie, he'll never play cards with us again."

"Someone else might."

"I doubt it, Susie - our reputation goes before us. And the rain's coming after us. It's time for another sprint."

"Caught between two bus stops - this is thanks to your peniaphobia, Jeffrey."

"And thanks to your turophilia, Susie, we'll have to let a smile be our umbrella. Now, run for it!"

 

Chapter 114

"Hooray for Hollywood, Jeffrey! Your shimmying in the rain's saved us from a soaking."

"I wasn't shimmying."

"You can't help yourself, Denise," Susie grinned, and changed course towards the waiting taxi. "The proof is in your padding."

"I'm not wearing any."

"Precisely - and you still brought our good Samaritan to a screeching halt. Come on, he's waving us over."

"We shouldn't rush into things, Susie. I'm not that keen on being chauffeured by someone who's so heavy on the brakes in this wet weather."

"Beggars can't be choosers, Jeffrey, and you'll have me doing the backseat driving; I'll keep him in check."

"I'd rather head for the bus shelter."

"No you wouldn't. It'll be freezing in there, and you'll start moaning about getting your hair wet, and not being able to do a thing with it."

I looked out from under the red scarf, Susie had conjured up from the depths of her bag, and tried a different ploy. "It's almost a minibus - there might be a surcharge for the unoccupied seats."

"I won't stand any nonsense, Jeffrey. The blighter could see there were only two of us before he stopped." Susie steered me into the smiling line. "Denise looks winsome in her crimson. Brighten his day, Jeffrey - we want to get off on the right foot this time."

"Have it your way," I muttered. "But let's see if he's still as eager for our custom when he discovers it's an out of town job."

An unkempt twenty-something, who could have modelled for a toby jug, tumbled from his seat and splashed ankle deep into a puddle. "Bugger," he cursed, shaking his leg and hopping onto the kerb.

"Uh-oh, Susie, here comes another member of the hanging belly over too tight belt brigade. I hope it's not an omen. I'm starting to believe in your things happening in threes theory," I fibbed, on the off-chance it would give her pause for thought.

"We've seen a lot more than three today, Jeffrey. It must be World Big Lad Week in Shoreham - and this one's a prime specimen."

"He looks like an overgrown schoolboy, Susie."

"That's because he's dressed in the suit of a far smaller bloke. Try not to mention it - we don't want to hurt his feelings."

A lupine grin split the driver's bristly face, and I hung back as he slid open the door of the Volkswagen. "Your carriage awaits, girls," he announced, his alien accent lacking even the grouchy charm of our morning taxi driver.

I hesitated, before definitely deciding against him. "No thanks, we've spent up; we'll wait for the bus." I turned to go, but Susie had other ideas.

"Nonsense, Denise, we'll dip into our emergency reserves." She dived in and pulled me after her. "Climb aboard before we're drenched."

"Wait, Susie - it's nearly stopped raining," I protested, but in vain and too late.

"Mind your fingers!"

"Hey, be careful, or you'll squash Little Red Riding Hood's delicacies," Susie scolded, as the driver closed the door on my basket.

"Sorry," he grunted, and pushed it onto my lap. "Okay now?"

"Not so fast." Susie held up her hand. "We haven't agreed terms yet."

"It'll be whatever's on the meter - no extras."

"Are you sure? You haven't heard where we want to go."

"It'll make no difference; I'm obliged to carry you. I don't care if it's up Mount Everest to Timbuktu."

"You've got a deal, then," Susie smiled. "Take us down the Limpopo to the end of the line - it's two for Nutwood."

"Nutwood?" the cabbie echoed, a doubtful expression flitting across his face. "I didn't know you lived there."

"Well, it's too late to change your mind now," Susie declared. "Our bums are on the seat; that makes for an unbreakable contract. Don't try and wriggle out of it, after what you just said."

"Are you sure you want to go to Nutwood?" the driver persisted.

"Yes, and by the direct route - round the roundabout, not round the houses. Loop the loop, and then straight back along the prom. You can't miss Nutwood; there's only one road in and one road out."

"Okaaaaaay," he drawled, and paused for a forehead furrowing moment. "You have come from the dance competition, haven't you?"

"That's right, and now Rupert Bear and Tiger Lily are ready to return safe home, following their great adventure," Susie beamed, eliciting a further puzzled frown in return.

"I don't get it - do you want to go to the zoo?"

"No - what gave you that idea? Come on, Postman Pat, fire up Herbie and deliver us first-class to Nutwood."

"Don't confuse him, Susie - he might be American and lack our cultural heritage."

"He's definitely got the barnet for it, Denise, and he does speak better English than what we does."

"My granddad was a Cunarder and I'm from Liverpool, " the cabbie swaggered. "But a supporter of the mighty Everton," he hastily added. "I'm a dyed-in-the-wool blue - a true Merseyside aristocrat."

I wasn't reassured. "Never trust a man with a Scouse monobrow," I murmured. "Let's get out of here."

Susie ignored my advice - the driver's persona had summoned up a suitable piece of YouTubery from the depths of her bountiful mind. "Ullo, John! Gotta new motor?" she exclaimed.

"What do you mean? I'm Willy!" the lad spluttered. "And this taxi's all mine - I've been driving it for years."

"Then you shouldn't be a stranger to Nutwood, la. Are you taking us there or not? Get your truck in gear, or we're off on the bus."

"If that's where you want to go, I even know a shortcut, darling. Fasten your seatbelts, and we'll be on our way." Willy banged the door shut and hurried round to the driving seat.

"I'm nervous about him, Susie," I whispered. "He's got tattoos and aggressive hair. And his accent's unappealing - it's not open and honest like ours. He could never wear a baggy cap and advertise Hovis in a million years."

"You're letting your prejudices show again, Denise; this is a bona-fide taxi with all the official doodahs. Worry not, I'll look after you."

"And what was that about a shortcut?"

"Just taxi-driver spiel."

"Well, I'd be happier if you had that axe from Aldi tucked in your belt. Somebody's telling us fairy tales."

"Shush, here he comes."

"Next stop Nutwood!" Our unlikely knight of the road bounced onto his seat, had a quick look behind, and with a crashing of gears bumped the taxi away.

"You were right; he is a far from smooth operator," Susie snorted, as we jerked along the Golden Mile. "You'd think he'd never driven this van before."

"And he's no sense of direction, or he's deliberately ignoring your instructions. The Big One's coming up - do something before we land in leafy Lytham."

Susie slid open the window in the security screen. "Hey, this is the wrong way. What's the big idea of going straight through the roundabout?"

"I'm taking you down to the start and back again. You want to see all the Illuminations, don't you?"

"It's over two hours to switch on. We're not tourists - don't try and rip us off. We haven't just fallen off the Christmas tree, have we, Denise?"

"I think I may have done, Susie."

"Well, I haven't. So hold your horses, Willy boy, and turn around and follow that number 1 bus."

"All in good time."

"Now!" Susie ordered. "Don't take us on Gullible's travels - we're not made of money."

"No, but your dad is," Willy sniggered. "He has a bank full of it, and he's spending some of his lovely lolly on this jaunt. I was hired to pick you up and keep you entertained, while he's tied up at the office."

"What's going on, Susie?" I cried. "Your dad doesn't even know we're here."

"Obviously, a case of mistaken identity, Denise. Stop the car, you batty beggar - you've got the wrong girls."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have," I yelled. "Pull over and let us out."

"I can't do that - your dad's paid in advance and put his trust in me."

"I haven't got a dad - tell him, Susie. What's he up to?"

"We're at cross-purposes, Denise - he's obviously mistaken us for the Hammill twins."

"It's more than that, Susie - there's something awfully fishy about this."

"You're right, Denise - it smells to high heaven. A dad, who lavished so much on his daughters' dance costumes would hire a stretched limo with a uniformed chauffeur. He wouldn't entrust their well-being to a cowboy taxi-driver."

"I'm no cowboy - this is a Mohican!" Willy whooped.

"Okay, Big Chief Blue Nose, keep your hair up, and set us down, before you land in heap big trouble. Isn't it obvious we're not who you think we are?"

"I don't know what you're playing at with all that 'Susie' and 'Denise' nonsense, you gobby little tart," Willy fumed. "But I do know you're Alice and Amy Hammill."

"No, we're not, you daft divvy."

"Yes, you are," Willy barked. "I was in the Tower and watched you on the dance floor. I waited for you to come back after your performance, but you disappeared into thin air."

"Because we aren't the real Alice and Amy."

"Don't deny it - you've still got the number 7 on your back."

"Not anymore." Susie ripped off the label and tore it up. "That's where you've been misled."

"You're too bloody right," he bellowed. "I've been looking all over for you ever since."

"Shouting will get you nowhere," I reproved.

"Don't you start."

"I'm not. Just tell us why didn't you mention any of this before we got in?"

"I thought you knew."

"How could we know?" Susie glared.

"Hold on, Susie - let him speak. We may learn something."

"Yes, just listen. Your dad's had an unexpected problem at the bank, and I'm in loco parentis until it's sorted."

"You don't even know what that means," Susie scoffed. "You're in loco dementis."

"I'm bloody not, and I bloody do," Willy erupted. "I've got it all written down here. 'Pick up Alice and Amy Hammill from the Tower Ballroom' - those were my instructions. Didn't your dad phone you?"

"No, because we're not Alice and Amy," Susie repeated.

"Yes, you are."

"No, we aren't. I'm Susie and this is Denise."

"Well, maybe Denise isn't as doolally as you are." Willy softened his tone. "Let's hear what you have to say for yourself, luv."

"It's a wise child that knows its own father," I solemnly offered.

"And we're super bloody wise, and sure as shooting our dad isn't a Hammill," Susie emphasised. "Can't you get that through your thick skull?"

"You're Alice and Amy Hammill," Willy insisted vehemently, a tinge of colour coming to his pasty face.

"No, we're not! How many times do we have to tell you?"

"I know what I know."

"You're not getting through to him, Susie."

"We're banging our heads against a vicious circle, Denise. It's like talking to a swamp - the stubborn bugger's got porridge for a brain."

"That must be what's bringing a healthy glow to his face, Susie."

"Stop pulling his chain, Denise - you're making him flush."

"Shut up," Willy snapped. "If you're such bloody clever clogs, what's your story, then - whoever you are?"

"This could prove a trifle tricky to explain, Denise."

"Even though it's blancmange-like in duoplicity, Susie, I've every confidence in you."

"Let's hear it, then - my meter's ticking. Why aren't you Alice and Amy Hammill?"

"Well, if you were in the ballroom, as you claim, it should have been obvious we're professional dancers. Couldn't you tell by the exhibition we made of ourselves? Denise's feet were going round faster than helicopter blades."

"We're undisputed masters of the Viennese Waltz," I asserted. "You can't argue with that. Our dazzling speciality of 64 bars of uninterrupted fleckerls is guaranteed to mesmerise the judges. No one who witnessed them could doubt our credentials."

"So what was your game pretending to be Alice and Amy?"

"Keep this under your Mohican," Susie cautioned, "or it'll be the worse for you. We were last minute substitutes, playing our part in a sophisticated betting coup."

"Organised by the notorious Mr Santini," I added menacingly. "He's the local crime boss, and he has a finger in every cornet since he licked his enemies off the floor in the ice-cream wars."

"And you'll end up in the deep freeze if you try anything on with us," Susie threatened. "In the summer season we did record business for him. We were his number one van dollies."

"So watch your step," I warned. "Things have a tendency to come crashing down around us."

"And people," Susie hissed ominously, "so I hope you've got the message. Now let us out, before we flag down a passing Mr Whippy."

"What a load of bloody twaddle!" Wally howled. "You're the Hammill twins. That old biddy at the Tower with the clipboard should know. She couldn't stop talking about you and your incredible routine."

"Oh, did we win a prize?"

"Yes - a mystery tour, and this it," Willy guffawed.

"Can't you get it into your pea brain we fooled her as well," Susie spluttered.

"You'll have to do better than that," Willy sneered. "I know for a fact she's a friend of the family; I overheard her gossiping about your dad's marriage problems."

"We made that up."

"And I suppose she made up that your dad had behaved like an absolute bounder towards her," Willy gibed. "She was moaning to the other old bats how Mr Hammill didn't deserve such lovely daughters."

"Our lies have come back to haunt us, Amy."

"You've said it, Alice."

"I'm glad we're finally settled on that," Willy grunted with satisfaction. "Now shut up, and let me concentrate. I've a job to do, and I'm fed up with being messed around."

"And we're fed up of being mushrooms," Susie retorted. "It's your turn to answer some questions. For a start, why doesn't your face match this one on the identity badge back here?"

"That's my partner - we share the cab."

"Okay, what's his name and number?"

"Mind your own business - we're not in the bloody army. Get back there and fasten your seatbelts. I don't want the police pulling me over."

"And we know why, don't we, Denise?"

"I've a nasty suspicion we've ignored mother's warnings and got into a car with a strange man, Susie."

"Not to put too fine a point on it, Denise, but I think Alice and Amy are in danger of being snatched."

"We're hostages to fortune, Susie - bargaining chips in an impending bank robbery. Isn't that right, Willy?"

"So you've worked out what's happening, but it's too late now," Willy gloated. "Your dad's going to have to open all the doors for us if he wants to see you again."

Everton's anthem, the theme from Z Cars, blasted out from the phone on the dashboard, interrupting Willy's triumphant revelations.

"You'd better pull over - it's against the law to ..."

"Shut up, or I'll blob you. Just remember you're nothing but money in your dad's bank to me," Willy growled, ignoring Susie's advice and putting the mobile to his ear. "Willy here, Wally - the birds are in the cage, and I'm heading for the rendezvous."

"The daft bugger's got the wrong ones," Susie shouted over his shoulder.

"Take no notice, Wally - I've done exactly as you planned."

"No, he hasn't!" Susie cried.

"Yes, I have," Willy yelled. "I had to use my initiative, Wally, but they finally fell into our trap. I've banged them up, good and proper."

"Not for long!"

"I've got to go, Wally. The loony little bitch's thumping me on the back of the head. Over and out." Willy threw down the phone, and made a grab for Susie's arm.

"Missed!"

"Just you wait - I'll teach you for trying to land me in trouble with Wally."

"That's the least of your worries - you're already in big bother," I glared. "Kidnapping two innocent, underage girls will get you more than an asbo."

"And you'll be on the sex offenders register for life when you finally mince out of prison," Susie glowered.

"I've never even touched you. I'm driving you around - that's all. You're free to get out any time you like."

"You won't be so cocky when we set Jeffrey on you."

"Who the hell's Jeffrey?"

"He's Denise's invisible friend. She shares him with me, along with two pink rabbits."

"He's a crafty little beggar, and dangerous with it," I warned. "Watch out he doesn't sneak up from behind and hit you over the head. Jeffrey gets mad if anyone messes with his Susie and Denise."

"You can't fool me with your crazy talk. You are who I say you are." Willy insisted. "Now button it until we're ready for you to persuade your dad to open the vault."

Willy slammed the communicating pane shut and flipped the locking lever.

"But he's not our dad, you idiot." Susie banged on the security shield. "Let us out of here, barnacle bum!"

"Shut bloody up!" Willy hunched over the steering wheel and closed his ears to all further protests.

"We've done it again," I groaned, as we sped out of town. "Our fondness for double identities has landed us right in it. We've been too clever for our own good."

Susie sank back into the seat. "Speak for yourself, Jeffrey. How were we to know Alice and Amy might have had a good reason for doing a runner and that their dad is a bank manager?"

"This is the last time we pinch any clothes," I vowed. "It leads to nothing but trouble. I only hope we can get out of here before he gets to wherever we're going."

"I'm with you there, Jeffrey. Have you ever considered diving headfirst from a moving car?"

"The thought has crossed my mind - once or twice."

"The trick is to curl up into a ball and keep rolling."

"That's fine in theory, Susie, but I don't want to risk a trip to casualty."

"It's no more dangerous than leaping from the roof of a house. And paratroopers do that every day in their training - or is it firemen?"

"With any luck, we won't have to put it to the test; we're slowing down."

"He's taking the next left, Jeffrey."

"Now's our chance, Susie - slide the door open."

"Uuuhhh! Uhhhhhhhh!" Susie tugged desperately at the handle. "Would you believe it? The daft bugger wasn't daft enough to forget to lock us in."

"We're trapped," I wailed. "How utterly humiliating - we've let ourselves get taken for a ride by a nitwit."

"And it may be a one-way ticket when they find out we're not who they think we are, Jeffrey. We'll be surplus to requirements."

"This is what comes of jumping in with both feet, Susie. I hope you've learned a lesson."

"All I've learned, Jeffrey, is that this is what comes of not being girls of independent means and having our own transport."

"So you haven't any idea how we're going to get out of here."

"I will have eventually, but we may be a bit late getting home tonight."

"Oh, Susie, what am I going to tell mum?"

"The truth, Jeffrey - we were abducted by Liverpudlians!"

 

Chapter 115

"He's a worse driver than you are, Susie."

"That's no surprise, Jeffrey - everybody is."

Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!

"Hang on, Susie, the swine's about to breach the Highway Code."

Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!

Willy ignored the red light, put his foot down, and accelerated across the junction.

"Section 176 to be precise, Jeffrey."

"I'm impressed by your intimate acquaintance with the rules of the road, Susie."

"It's my shipping forecast, Jeffrey; I fall asleep reading it."

Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!

"Oh, watch out - tanker on the port bow. Brace yourself for a collision," I cried, before we veered to starboard and miraculously avoided the oncoming lorry. "Aaaahhh, we're taking off!"

Susie crooned.

Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrp!

"Ooooooeeer!" I gasped, as we bounced back onto all fours. "Here I come, Susie."

"To me, Jeffrey!"

I slithered along the seat into Susie's arms. "Sorry, but these glossy hot pants possess an exceedingly low coefficient of friction."

"If we weren't in such a sticky situation, Jeffrey, I'd find this mildly erotic. It's almost as good as whirling around on the waltzer."

"I've had enough of the dodgems, Susie; we have to figure a way out of this."

"All we need to do is hijack the taxi, Jeffrey. Once I'm behind the wheel, section 124 will mean nothing to me - it'll be goodnight Vienna."

"Easier said than done, Susie."

"But well within our capabilities - any ideas?"

"Only that we're off out into the country again. He's driving us around willy-nilly. What does Sherla Jones deduce from that?"

"It's the safest way to keep us incommunicado, and stay within easy reach of our supposed dad's bank. Perhaps Willy isn't as daft as we thought."

"I hope not, Susie."

"I don't suppose it'd do much good to pull faces at the window."

"No, all kids do it."

"We're not kids, Jeffrey, and demonstrating your newly found pubescence may be the only way grab people's attention."

"I'm not showing off Pinky and Pinky to the world."

"I'll join you in flashing OOOO for an SOS."

"Only as a last desperate measure, then."

"Okay, we'll wait and see what happens when Willy puts us on the phone, and we're disowned by 'dad'. That should set the cat amongst the rats and start the fur flying."

"Consequences guaranteed, Susie, and our 'We told you so' won't improve Willy's temper - that's for certain."

"What's worrying me, Jeffrey, is that he's kidnapped us and doesn't seem bothered about keeping his identity a secret."

"They may intend Alice's and Amy's lips to be permanently sealed, Susie. We'd better think of something quick. I can't see Willy apologising for any inconvenience caused and turning us loose."

"I've every confidence you're already working on a scheme to disable him, Jeffrey. How's the jujitsu?"

"I'd prefer not engage in hand-to-hand combat, Susie. I'd rather try and outwit him if it's all the same to you. But I haven't ... Oh, what's happening now?"

Tucka THUCK tucka THUCK tucka THUCK tucka THUCK tucka.

"This may be opportunity knocking, Jeffrey. The engine sounds as if it's conking out; that's what comes of careering along like Mr Toad."

Tucka THUCK tucka THUCK tucka ...... PHUUUUUUUTTTT!

"I hope it's blown a gasket, Susie. It might induce Willy to do the same, now fate's thrown another spanner in the works of their criminal master plan."

"At least, it'll give us a chance to engage Willy in some mind-boggling double-talk. We'll wind the clown up and make his head spin anti-clockwise - he won't know what's hit him."

"It'll have to be something special because fortune's smiled on the knave," I moaned, as we came to rest on the grass verge. "It's gifted him a nice remote spot for a breakdown."

"Look on the bright side, Jeffrey - we're stuck, and probably miles from where Willy's supposed to finally end up. Just sitting here, waiting for a nosy-parker to come along is in our favour."

I gazed out over the low-hedged fields. "There's no help in the offing unless Terence the Tractor eventually silages his way across to us. But there's a lot of grass to bale before he gets in signalling range."

"Boobs up, Denise - we'll discombobulate Willy by our own efforts. The big-headed Scouse git will be no match for two truculent, Lancashire lassies."

"I think there's a better prospect of success if we play along with him as an obliging Alice and Amy. Honey catches more flies than vinegar, Susie. The happier Willy is, the more likely he'll fall into our trap - whatever it turns out to be."

"Okay, Alice, prepare to sweet-talk Bluebottle into submission. The goon's quit banging his head on the steering wheel, and he's ready to reopen discussions."

Willy turned around and slid open the partition window. "We're parking up here for a while," he grunted. "Behave yourselves."

"Car trouble, is it?" Susie sympathised. "That's 'Vorsprung durch Technik' gone for a Burton. You should have put your trust in a British built London Taxi for a mission-critical job like this."

"It's too late now," Willy groaned. "Wally will lamp me into next week for bollocksing up his plan."

"Keep your chin down - all is not lost - we can get you a tow. Let us out, and Alice's hula-hula dance is guaranteed to flag down a passing Massey Ferguson."

"I don't need your help, and don't you try anything," Willy scowled. "I'll soon have the situation back under control."

"Going to get out and get under, are you? Alice can assist there as well - she's very mechanically minded. Do you want her to pass the tools?"

"Shut up - I'm trying to think."

"That's another of our specialities," Susie smiled. "What's up, doc?"

"We've run out of bloody petrol if you must know," Willy swore in exasperation.

"A likely story," Susie scoffed, "but we passed a garage a couple of miles back, and we'll gladly lend you a tenner."

"Ha-ha - I'm staying here, and you're staying there, so don't get any clever ideas. Just keep quiet while I work out what to tell Wally."

"All things considered, Willy, prospicience's not your strong point, is it?" I suggested.

"What do you mean?" he bridled. "I can piss over the pub wall - no hands, an' all."

"An upstanding achievement," Susie nodded, "but not much use in the present circumstances, unless you can pee petrol."

"For the want of a jerrycan for your Jerry car, a twins' ransom was lost," I mused.

"It's not my fault," Willy whinged. "It's that dozy bugger of a taxi-driver I pinched it off."

"You can't blame him for where you've parked, blocking a vital gateway and obscuring an important advertising hoarding." I indicated the sign - 'FARM SHOP - 1/2 MILE'. "You couldn't have chosen a worse place for a picnic. Just wait until Old MacDonald turns up to read the riot act - he'll have your guts for garters."

"He'll be busy milking his cows - he won't bother us."

"Yes, he will - they all have a sixth sense about trespassers and overnight stayers."

"And double-barrelled shotguns to speed them on their way," Susie smirked. "You'd better let us out PDQ."

"Don't get your hopes up - I can handle any busybody farmer," Willy boasted.

"And you'll have the chance to prove it, because he's coming ever closer," I warned. "Listen - can't you hear his tractor?"

"You're asking for trouble, hanging around here. Womble off back to Liverpool, while you still can," Susie advised.

Willy squinted out of the window. "He's a field away, and we haven't long to wait. It's gone five, and Wally will soon have your dad trembling on the phone."

"You'll be even more frustrated after that," I predicted.

"Just do as you're told, speak nicely to him, and we'll all be home in time for supper."

"You're in for a bitter disappointment." Susie sadly shook her head. "Father, dear father barely recognises our existence; he only speaks to his money. You won't get any change out of him."

"Wally's the man to persuade your dad different; he'll use his pliers on his toenails if he has to. Nothing's going to stand in the way of our heist of a lifetime. One big job, and we won't have to get up early in the morning ever again."

"You may be in over your head," Susie cautioned. "From swiping milk bottles off the step, to kidnapping schoolgirls is a giant leap for criminal kind."

"It's child's play to me," Willy snorted. "I'm on probation for parking my bike on a policeman's foot - and leaving it there - and we were all on a double yellow line."

"Oh, sorry," Susie apologised, "I didn't realise we were dealing with the Milkybar kid's baby brother. Where's your six-shooter?"

"I'll show you." Willy sought to recover his hard man credentials, by bending down and fiddling between his legs.

"Avert your eyes, Alice."

Willy came up waving an enormous weapon in the air. "Look what I've got!"

"That's nothing to boast about," Susie sneered.

"What is it, Amy?"

"It's no banana, Alice."

"That's right, darling, but if you give me any trouble, I'll make you eat it."

"Oh, Amy!"

"Have no fear, Alice - he can't intimidate us with his kiddie cannon. It's a Johnny 7 gun."

"That's been modified," Willy blustered.

"What to - a spud gun?" Susie taunted.

"You'll find it stings like hell - so sit quiet."

"I'm not impressed - Alice got a fire engine for Christmas."

"I've warned you." Willy twisted in his seat and leaned threateningly towards us.

"Get your noodle out of here," Susie glared. "We may lack your hi-tech equipment, but we can spit in yer eye and blind yer."

"I can't, Amy - my mouth's gone dry."

"Don't be scared, Alice, if he owned a real gun, he could just rob the bank instead of getting dad to do it for him."

"If he owned a bank, he could rob the world, Amy."

"Did you hear that, Willy? You're in the wrong business. Become an accountant, and give up this life of crime - you'll never make a living at it."

"That's all you know. Mugging pays - I've got a genuine iPhone with an Everton ringtone. What have you got?"

"Nothing - Alice and I have to make do with a couple of tin cans and a piece of string. Dad won't indulge us with such luxuries."

A disconcerting possibility belatedly struck Willy. "Open your bag," he instructed Susie, "and let's have a look. We don't want you making a nuisance call to the police."

"You've left it a bit late in the day, haven't you - shouldn't you have thought of that before?"

"I would have done, but Wally forgot to put it on the list of things to do. But it doesn't matter, because I've had my eye on you all the time."

"That explains your driving," Susie goaded.

"There's nothing wrong with my driving," Willy snarled. "I didn't need to pass a test. Come on, let's have a gander in your bag."

Susie squashed it in her lap. "You'll have to come round and get it."

The problem stumped Willy for a moment - and then he brightened. "No, I won't - you haven't got a phone, or you'd have used it by now."

"He's too canny for us, Alice."

"I know, Amy," I snuffled. "What are we going to do? Mum will be frantic if we're not home by six."

"Yes, how about lending us your mobile, Willy, and then we can put mum's mind at rest?"

"No way - you wouldn't give it back. It's a collector's item."

"Really - and what's so special about it, pray?" Susie mocked.

"It's an iPhone, dummy, and the man that makes 'em, Steve Jobs, has kicked the bucket. The price will go shooting up, you'll see. It's a bit of luck for me."

"We don't feel that way, do we, Amy?"

"Another light has gone out in the world, Alice. We've lost too many greats of late. Bob Hope, Adam Faith, Johnny Cash."

"No hope, no faith, no cash, and now no jobs," I lamented. "The future looks bleak for guys like Willy."

"Things are never so bad they can't get worse, Alice."

"What would you advise in Willy's situation, Amy?"

"He should say a little prayer for Ed Balls, Alice."

"We all should, Amy. The man has the most economical brain of his generation. He was involved in abolishing boom and bust once, and he can do it again."

"I'd vote for him, Alice - his approach is my approach. First you borrow, then you spend, spend, spend, and finally you leave someone else to pay it back."

"As I've found to my cost," I griped. "What do you think is the best financial strategy, Willy? Untold wealth will soon be slipping through your fingers."

"Don't laugh at me - I'm no fool," he spluttered. "I might not be the brightest spark, but I know when someone's taking the piss. You're as bad as my bloody brother."

"Ah, do I detect a case of pent-up sibling rivalry, Alice?"

"You're very perceptive, Amy."

"I know exactly how he feels, Alice; little brothers can be a blinking nuisance."

"I'd put Wally in his place if he was," Willy glowered. "But we're identical twins, and he's always there when he needs me."

"Who would have thought it?" Susie whistled. "That there could be two like you."

"Not any more - Wally's never been the same since, out of a clear blue sky, the gable end fell on his head."

"Did he manage to pick himself up and dust himself down?"

"Eventually, but it finished his boxing career. Wally's been left with a limp and a compulsion to keep looking up. We had to eat our prize pigeons after he kept putting his neck out, and dump the dog in the Dingle to stop him tripping over it."

"If you ask me, he came out a winner," I blinked. "No boxing, no pigeons, and no dog."

"Don't tell Wally that, and don't mention his afflictions if you know what's good for you," Willy warned. "And don't mention I've got an iPhone. He wants first dibs on everything; that's why I'm lumbered with this bloody toy, and he's got a proper gun."

"Take heart, you got the best of the bargain," I consoled. "Nothing is as desirable as a genuine Johnny 7."

"A pearl-handled Uzi is," Willy whined. "The selfish bugger always gets there first when the sweets are being handed out."

"He obviously soaked up the lion's share of testosterone in the womb," Susie sympathised. "And used it to elbow you aside in the fight for nourishment."

"Yeah, Wally always was a fat bastard and mam's favourite as well. It's not fair. Just because he's older by twelve hours is no reason for mam to have had it in for me ever since."

"Well, at least she christened you the Willy, and not the Wally - that's a big plus. Perhaps you're being too harsh on her," Susie suggested.

"Not when your dad's name is Straker. Mam did it deliberately, so I'd never have a chance against Wally from the very start. She knew what the other kids would call me."

"O, it could have been worse, don't you think, Alice?"

"It does put her decision in a different light, Amy. Given their choice of profession," I reflected, "Ronnie and Reggie would have been a more apt pairing."

"Or Romulus and Remus, like in the Bible - anything but Willy. It's worse than being a boy named Sue." Willy hung his head in shame. "I don't know why I have a compulsion to tell folk all this - they only laugh."

"He doesn't need to worry about becoming a figure of fun with us, does he Amy?"

"Definitely not, Alice - we're two serious little bunnies. Even Karl Marx at his funniest couldn't flex our chuckle muscles if we didn't want him to."

"And Amy has a certificate in first aiding and Samaritaning."

"That's right, Willy - you can trust me. Anything you say won't be taken down and used in evidence," Susie reassured him. "So feel free to carry on confessing."

"I'd rather play on my iPhone."

"You'll never get the better of Wally that way; you need to talk through your negative emotions. Tell me more about your power struggle," Susie coaxed, "and I may be able to give you a few tips on how to become the geminus unus instead of the geminus anus."

"What's that? ... Hey did she call me ..."

"No - it's Latin for twinus supremus," I elucidated. "Don't you want to be the numero uno?"

Willy closed his eyes and pondered.

"It's all Greek to him, Alice - he doesn't know his alpha from his omega."

"Yes I bloody do," Willy barked. "Nothing gets past me. You wouldn't believe what goes on at home. But not a word to Wally - he won't hear a word against mam."

"It sounds as if Wally has an Oedipus complex, Amy?"

"And mother has a Medea one towards Willy, Alice."

"What's that?" Willy frowned.

"Nothing to get choked about - we'll fill you in later when we have all the facts. Carry on in the psychiatrist's chair - this is unbelievably fascinating."

Willy looked suspiciously at Susie. "You're up to something."

"No, I'm not. You're a born storyteller; you should be presenting Jackanory. Now, let's hear about your mum, the desperate Scousewife."

"She's a hard unfeeling woman. And so was dad - and taciturn with it. He'd come home at all hours, rolling drunk, mam would hit him over the head with a rolling pin, and he'd just lie there and say nothing."

"I empathise with you - we know all about dysfunctional families," Susie sighed. "Our dad will be glad to see the back of us; that's why you're wasting your time with this kidnapping."

"Don't start your romancing again," Willy snorted. "I'm having none of it. All we have to do is sit here and wait. I'll show Wally who's the nincompoop."

"You already have. His scheme will never work."

"Yes it will - we're a pair of Robin Hoods."

I raised two eyebrows. "Oh, you're liberating the bank's ill-gotten gains and giving it away, are you?"

"No bloody chance, but the people will still be on our side. We're local heroes like the Kray twins. It was clever of you to spot that. Wally's the mad bugger, and I'm the handsome one."

"We should have brought our autograph books, Alice."

"I'll sign your tits if you like," Willy guffawed.

"Back off! You're on the road to ruin," I frowned. "Find yourself an honest trade before it's too late. Isn't Knotty Ash the world capital for broken biscuit repairing and sausage knotting?"

"A safe job in a bank is what I'm after," Willy giggled. "It's the only way to earn really big money."

"You could print some yourself; that's all the rage nowadays. But then you have the worry of finding a safe haven. Where would you invest it if we had a million pounds, Alice?"

"I'd buy ourselves a few polar bears, Amy; they soon won't be making any more of them."

"Are you taking notes, Willy; that'll put you one up on Wally."

"I don't need your advice - the Straker twins already have their future mapped out."

"Careless talk costs lives," Susie cautioned. "Aren't kidnappers supposed to make an effort to keep their plans and identities secret?"

"Shush, Amy."

"Don't worry," Willy smirked, "if your dad cooperates, we ain't going as far as killing you. And after we're finished, you'll forget all about us; Wally will hypnotise you into not remembering."

"They've left nothing to chance, have they, Alice?"

"You can't help but be impressed, Amy."

"You don't know the half of it. We're buggering off to Brazil," Willy fantasised. "We'll lie there, on the Topabanana, drinking our tea out of silver saucers."

We both rolled our eyes. "We've heard that before."

"I'm not surprised - Brazil's the coming country - England's finished."

"Yeah, but at least we can play football," Susie grinned. "Everton!"

"Are you taking the piss again?"

"No, just making conversation."

"Well, can it." Willy checked his watch. "It's coming up to zero hour. I've got to ring Wally and tell him of our slight change of plan." Willy bit his lip in trepidation. "He's not going to be pleased about this."

"Would you like us to put in a good word for you?" Susie smiled.

"No, I bloody wouldn't." Willy jumped from the taxi and banged the door behind him.

"Willy's got the wind up, Susie, but it'll be hard to take advantage of the fact while we're stuck in here."

"It's only a matter of time, Jeffrey - he's psychologically vulnerable."

"I wish he were more physically vulnerable, Susie. It's going to call for something special on our behalf."

"I have every confidence in us, Jeffrey. If we play our lardy right, we'll have a Johnny 7 gun and an iPhone to add to our collection before the day's out."

 

Chapter 116

"Wally's giving him the full hair dryer treatment, Susie," I observed, with increasing satisfaction, as Willy moved the phone further and further from his ear.

"He's hardly got a word in edgewise for the last five minutes, Jeffrey. We're definitely dealing with the second coconut."

"Let's hope we can subtlety take advantage of the fact, Susie."

"Dangerously subtlety, Jeffrey."

"That goes without saying, Susie, and the chance may soon arise - Willy's on his way back."

"And it looks as if he's arranged our interview with the bank manager. I fear there may be ructions at both ends of the line."

"I think we should try to maintain the deception, Susie. We don't want Wally coming here, screaming blue murder and waving his Uzi in our faces."

"I'll posh up the accent a bit, and we'll hope for the best, Jeffrey."

Willy climbed back into the driver's seat and took a deep breath. "Luckily for you, I've managed to straighten matters out with base. Wally's okay with this being our new rendezvous."

"You could have fooled us."

"Wally gets a bit emotional since his accident, that's all. I have to make allowances, but everything's back on track now - so just bloody cooperate." Willy thrust his mobile up to Susie's ear. "Wally's putting your dad on."

"I should warn you - dad's audially challenged."

"Don't start with your crazy talk again."

"I'm not - the fact is everyone sounds like Donald Duck to dad on the phone. He may not recognise my merry trilling. I hope you've taken that possibility into account."

"Just get with it, Miss Smarty Pants, and no more messing about. Speak when you're spoken to, or it'll be the worse for you and your dad."

"Hello, Amy, are you all right?"

"Is that you dad? You sound a bit echoey."

"So do you. What's the matter, Amy - are you in a cellar?"

"No, we're locked in the back of a taxi."

"That must be it ..."

"Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes, I lost the signal for a moment, but it's okay now. Is Alice with you?"

"Right beside me and hanging on every word."

"I'm relying on you to look after her."

"Don't I always."

"Of course you do. Now both of you, be brave girls, do exactly as you're told, and I'll soon have you free."

"There's no rush, dad. Look after yourself - we can take care of things here."

"That's enough, Mr Hammill - say goodbye."

"Do what you have to do, dad, and don't worry about us."

"I've got to go, Amy - bye. Bye, Alice."

"Bye, dad."

"Bye for now. It won't be long before I speak to you again, and then we'll all go home - I promise."

"Call the police if you ..."

Willy whipped the phone away from Susie's ear. "That's enough!"

"It is for me. Stay out of my face, you wally."

"I'm Willy, and it's lucky for you I'm the good twin," he rasped. "Our kid wouldn't put up with your nonsense. Wally's an evil, thumbs-in-the-eye, bite-your-balls-off guy. He's batshit crazy."

"You can't scare us. We weren't kidding about Mr Santini. You're trespassing on his patch. He'll have you and Wally for dessert."

"We can take care of a puffed-up ice-cream salesman."

"You've got his enforcer, our Uncle Frank, to contend with as well. He strangles cats with his worry beads. And he knows where all the bodies are buried - he put them there."

"Don't forget Aunt Rose, Amy - her dirty looks could give you food poisoning."

"You're bloody nutcases, the pair of you." Willy exploded. "But your yakking won't get you out of there, and it doesn't bother me. The only thing that matters is you're a pair of spoilt brats, who your dad will do anything for."

"That's a harsh judgement, under trying circumstances and on such a casual acquaintance," I huffed.

"I know more about you than you think," Willy revealed. "We've been planning this for weeks."

"So who told you we'd be at the Tower?"

"Wally did."

"And who told him?" I probed.

"It's a secret - the less you know the safer you'll be."

"The less you know, the safer Wally will be. He's deliberately keeping you in the dark," I prodded.

"No he's not," Willy snapped. "He's just taciturn like dad. That gable end did more damage than a hundred rolling pins."

"Get real," Susie advised. "Wally's using you to do his dirty kidnapping work, and then he'll give you the old heave-ho, the first chance he gets. Birkenhead is the nearest you'll ever get to Brazil."

Willy flushed bright red. "We're twins - and we're a team."

"Like good old Romulus and Remus?"

"That's right, now purra zipper on it, or I'm shutting you in again," Willy threatened.

"Don't upset him, Amy. I get claustrophobia with the window closed. Change the subject, and let's talk about Everton or one of his other hobbies."

"I bet Willy and Wally are a pair of closet ballroom dancers, Alice. It's just the kind of sentimental kitsch that appeals to hardened criminals."

Willy smiled and relaxed a little. "Wally did fancy himself down the Grafton. His favourite was the gentleman's excuse me. He went up and tapped the buggers on the chin - he got us both banned."

"So your dancing career was cut short."

"Yeah, but we were still laughing when the fire brigade arrived. And I remember enough to do the hokey-cokey with you two," Willy leered.

"Behave yourself - there are ladies present."

"Yes, don't get fresh with us," I pouted.

"There's no danger of that with whiffy Willy, here," Susie sniffed.

"What do you mean?" Willy protested. "I haven't farted once."

"Yes you have - and the fairies have forgotten to take them away."

"Silent ones don't count."

"They're the worst." Susie held her nose. "Thilent and thmelly means you're primed to go."

"Oooohhh!" Willy screwed up his face in pain. "Why did you have to mention it? You've set me off."

"Don't blame us - you've got first night bank robbing nerves."

"No, I haven't."

"And they're making you sweat. Get out before it's too late," I urged.

"Oooooooohhhhh!" Willy opened the door and jumped down. "Don't tell Wally I left you alone."

"You're shit scared of him - that's what it is," Susie needled.

"No, I'm not. I ate his pet goldfish. And the mug had his hand down the bog for half-an-hour, looking for his poor old Percy," Willy laughed, before doubling over and clutching at his backside. "Oooh, I've got to go!"

"Oooo, Willy's had an accident, Alice."

"No, I haven't."

"You will have if we've anything to do with it," Susie promised.

"You aren't that clever. Everything's locked up, and I'm taking the key. So don't try anything - I'll be watching."

"Well, have no fear, we won't be." I assured. "On your way before you join the brown trouser brigade."

"You behave yourselves," Willy yelped, and disappeared round the rear of the van.

"It's a pity we're missing the chance to catch him with his pants down, Jeffrey."

"If it's all the same to you, Susie, I'd rather we caught Willy with his brains down."

"Whatever, Jeffrey, just as long as we're well on our way before number one twin arrives."

"I second that, Susie. I don't fancy staring deep into Wally's goggly eyes and putting my trust in his power of hypnosis."

"It's a 99er of a flaky idea, Jeffrey. I suspect Wally may have a more permanent solution in mind - urgent action is called for."

"The problem is persuading Willy to let us out."

"We could use your tights to garrotte him through the panel, and force him to do our bidding on pain of death."

"I'd prefer not to rely on brute force, Susie; there's always the danger we'll come off second best. We should try and manoeuvre Willy into a situation where he's desperate for our help."

"But how are we going to arrange that, Jeffrey?"

"We'll have to think up a devilishly cunning plan, Susie."

"Has my skilful probing of Willy's psyche given you any ideas?"

"Possibly ... but it'll have to wait - I hear the patter of tiny brains."

"Bugger, I was hoping he'd have the squits, but he looks full of beans - what a difference a spray makes."

Willy climbed back into the driver's seat. "All in one go," he grinned. "That's something Wally can't do - he's got piles."

"Itchy bum, money to come."

"Don't believe everything gran says, Alice."

"You can believe that." Willy laughed. "But it's best to keep out of Wally's way for an hour after he's been on the throne."

"Thanks for the tip, and seeing as you're in such a good mood, how about letting us out to stretch our legs?"

"Do you think I'm bloody daft?"

"It was worth a try," Susie shrugged. "Don't be mad - we're struggling to deal with the situation at the moment. You have us at a disadvantage - genius has its limits, but stupidity knows no bounds."

"Yeah, well, just keep quiet back there - rolling that log has given me an appetite. This taxi's come fully equipped, and I'm having the bugger's butties before Wally gets here."

"I hope you've washed your hands," Susie grinned. "We wouldn't want you going down with the wallywobbles again."

"Sod bloody off!" Willy slammed shut the window, and helped himself to the driver's lunch.

"Now's the time for some serious cogitating, Jeffrey. Any thoughts on how to inflict some boyish mayhem on Willy?"

"He's a little on the large size to manhandle, Susie."

"The bigger they come, Jeffrey - especially when they're lacking in agility. I can't help thinking Willy should be balancing a beach ball on his nose. The way he waddles makes me want to throw him a kipper."

"You're right - he'd never make a Bluebell Girl."

"Unlike you."

"They're a bit too statuesque for my taste, Susie. I rather fancy us as a pair of twinkle-toed, soft-shoe shufflers, dancing rings around Willy."

"The trouble is, Jeffrey, we can't float like a butterfly and sting like a bee until we get out of here."

"Buuuuuuuurrrpp!" Our discourse was rudely interrupted, and we looked up to see Willy wiping the windscreen, before downing another pair of sandwiches. "Buuuuuuuurrrpp!"

"Willy's an enthusiastic eater, Susie. He's polishing off the cabby's dinner and tea in one go."

"A regular glutton, Jeffrey, and we may have some success appealing to his animal appetites."

"Oh, that'd have to be a last resort, Susie."

"Don't worry, Jeffrey, we'll see the beast gets his just desserts, without you having to lie back and think of Poundland."

"Do you think the Big Bad Wolf is ready to top things off by eating our Grandma Singleton, Susie?" I picked up the cheese basket and balanced it on my knee. "Your peace offering may prove to be the ultimate deterrent."

"If Willy doesn't possess Uncle Frank's cast-iron digestion, it might be high enough to eventually lay him low, Jeffrey. But what we need is a sure-fire, instant knockout."

"So how would MacGyver disable his enemies if he'd only two pounds of cheese to improvise with, Susie?"

"He'd bung it up the exhaust pipe, and throttle their engine. I wonder whether we can persuade Willy to do the same."

"Gran's always warning about the danger of bolting food, and it slip-sliding down the wrong way. And as she says, there are more ways to kill a cat than choking it with butter."

"It won't be easy to persuade Willy to gorge himself with cheese, Jeffrey, especially on a full stomach."

"Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrpp!"

"He's sowing the wind again, Susie."

"But how do we ensure he reaps the whirlwind, Jeffrey?"

"I'm confident a Munchausiavellian plan's already forming in your head, Susie. One is in mine - shall we compare notes?"

 

Chapter 117

"How's does that score on your cunningometer, Jeffrey?"

"It could have been me speaking," I smiled. "We can only hope Willy's a glutton for punishment, and as ingenuous as you're ingenious, Susie."

"That's barely possible, Jeffrey, but Willy should still have gullibility to spare. He won't be able to resist the lure of free food, easy money, and the chance to put one over on Wally."

"Let's hope our plan is as foolproof as we think."

"We'll soon find out. Get ready to serve the pudding, Jeffrey, and I'll dig out some bait for the trap."

I extracted the cheese from its festering place in the basket. "Turn on the charm, Susie, and let's hope we can lure the wolf into devouring our Granny Singleton."

"Yoo-hoo, Willy," Susie called, tapping on the security screen. "Open our window of opportunity."

Willy reached round and slid back the pane. "What do you want now?" he demanded.

"Don't get airyated - and don't drink all that tea."

"Why not? You aren't having any," Willy scowled, and started to close the panel.

"Wait - you haven't heard what we've got to offer in return."

"Okay, but it'll cost you plenty."

Susie dangled one of our recently liberated twenty-pound notes in the air. "How about this as a down payment?"

Willy had an instant change of heart. "That'll just about cover it," he condescended. "You can share a cup of Starbucks special between you - cash in advance."

"We'll do it together - pass the tea through. Are you ready? Go!" Willy snatched the money, and Susie seized the flask top in return. "Thank you, kind sir; this is just what the dodger ordered."

"I told you I was the good guy," Willy smirked, pocketing his windfall. "Go on, drink up, and I might sell you another."

Susie raised her little finger and took a delicate sip. "We prefer to savour our comestibles, but we couldn't help admire the down-to-girth way you demolished those sandwiches."

"The spam was okay, but they were a bit poofy for my taste - triangles with slices of cucumber sticking out."

"Ah, cucumber," I murmured, "a fruit that's already worked its magic for us once this week."

"You're welcome to them." Willy sneered, "None of that green stuff is very filling - I'm still hungry - I fancy a Pukka pie."

"We can't help you there, and we don't have spam, spam, spam, and spam, but what Alice can offer you is the finest of cheeses for afters."

"I'm tempted, but it bloats me, and Wally says belching all over the place isn't in keeping with our new business image."

"Even better," I nodded to Susie.

"What are you whispering about?"

"Nothing - Alice just said she thought you were a professional and could stomach anything thrown at you."

"I am, and I can - so don't go getting any clever ideas," Willy warned.

"No, what we mean is your scoffing technique is that of a practised gannet gob," I smiled.

"You look as if you could outeat a hippo," Susie grinned.

"I do hold the pickled egg record down the Rat and Armpit," Willy bragged. "And I could have been a contender for the all-Merseyside," he sighed, "but Wally made me throw the semi-final."

"You're obviously the people's champion," I flattered. "And we'd feel privileged to share our cheese with such a Titan of a trencherman."

"Who?"

"You - a Goliath of gluttony," Susie beamed.

"What's your game?" Willy regarded us warily. "Why so bloody friendly all of a sudden?"

"We can't help ourselves," I cooed. "Amy says we're experiencing the first phase of the Stockholm syndrome."

"The what?"

"You know - where the hostages fall in love with their kidnappers," Susie explained. "We'll probably end up helping you to rob a bank."

"You're already doing that," Willy sniggered "Now get back there, and leave me in peace. I want to play on my iPhone some more before Wally swipes it."

Willy sprawled out on the seat and began fumbling on the virtual buttons with his all too real thumbs.

"How about letting us have a go?" Susie appealed.

"Bugger off - I'm killing zombies!"

"Be a sport," Susie pleaded. "We're banned from the computer at home ever since dad discovered we'd been googling untraceable poisons and the age of criminal responsibility."

"Change the record - we know your loving father will be only to keen to pay through the nose for you. And if he has any second thoughts, he'll find out Wally's an expert claret tapper," Willy chortled.

"It's no-go, Alice - we've fallen foul of totally ruthless people. Angry Birds will forever remain a mystery to us."

"Never mind, Amy, I'm happy making our own amusements."

"There's only so much you can do with pencil and paper, Alice."

"I enjoy playing sprouts."

"Only because you always win. I don't know how you do it."

"It's a gift, Amy."

"And I've learned my lesson; I'm not playing any more. I'll have no underwear left."

"I'm dead again! Will you woollybacks stop wittering and give me some peace."

"We're fed up sitting on our backsides," Susie huffed. "Dancers are used to being constantly on the go."

"Well, you're staying there - so forget it."

"How about playing hide-and-seek with us?" Susie persisted.

"Or chase your neighbour out of doors," I suggested.

"We'll be playing bloody murder if you don't belt up," Willy snapped. "You're doin' me 'ead in."

"You'd better keep us sweet," Susie reminded him, "or we'll stay stumm when dad rings again. And then where will you be? Wally will box your ears when he gets his fists on you."

"You'll do as you're told, or your dad will have a hole between his eyes," Willy threatened. "Wally doesn't take prisoners."

"We don't care - mum will thank us for it, won't she, Alice?"

"Are you absolutely sure dad's on the way out, Amy? Maybe he likes sleeping in the car."

"Mum's already got two new uncles lined up, Alice, and dad knows it. He'll probably be grateful to Wally for shooting him. And so will mum - she made doubly sure it's double indemnity on all his policies."

"That's why we haven't heard from them again, Amy. Dad's bitten the bullet and spared us all the pain of a messy divorce."

"And unselfishly secured our financial futures. It's a far, far better thing he's done, Alice."

"I'm not surprised if he has to put up with you two monkeys 24/7," Willy snorted.

"It's best if you accept the facts, Willy," Susie counselled. "Your scheme's fallen apart at both ends. We're marooned here, and the police are probably hauling Wally away for a mug shot and paraffin test as we speak."

"Will you bloody shut up, and leave me alone, before I do something you'll regret."

"Okay, get back to your knitting, unless you'd like to play a game that'll give you a real chance of earning some big money today." Susie unveiled our wad of twenties and brandished them in Willy's face. "Who wants to be a millionaire?"

"Where did that come from?" Willy goggled.

"The bank of dad - we use our brains, not brute force, to get what we want," Susie smirked. "Do you want to try and cut your losses by winning it off us in an epicurean sporting contest?"

"No - I'm not falling for your tricks." Willy pretended to go back to his game, but kept a beady eye on the money.

"Are you sure?"

"It'll be poofy mental stuff - and I'm anorexic."

"Don't worry, what we have in mind is especially suited to the hard of thinking," Susie promised.

"And you've the perfect build for it," I encouraged. "A belly for the bacon butties born."

"It's what's inside that counts, Alice, and I don't believe Willy's man enough to take up the challenge."

"I bet you pounds to party gowns he is, Amy. He's got a twelve-pack to die for."

"Even so, I don't fancy his chances. From the little I've seen Willy's not fit to polish Uncle Frank's knife and fork - or lick his shirt front."

"That's an unfair comparison, Amy. Unky's game for anything - he's a regular daredevil. He takes a bath without locking the door."

"Don't go there, Alice."

"I didn't, Amy; I fled at the first splash."

"I give up - you've got me killed again!" Willy threw down his phone in disgust. "You're bloody crazy, the pair of you. What are you chuntering on about now?"

"You should be flattered," Susie winked. "We were so impressed with your guzzling prowess that it brought to mind Uncle Frank polishing off his shoes."

"Couldn't we interest you in a modest wager - just to pass the time? Show him the money again, Amy."

Susie fanned out the bundle of notes. "Are you sure you can't work up an appetite for this?"

"I'm not eating my Nikes for all the tea in China."

"We couldn't really expect a novice to match unky's standard, Amy."

"I think even a measly few ounces of cheese would prove too much for Willy under strict tournament conditions, Alice."

"That's all you know - I'm the pizza king of Fazakerley. Giz a goz."

"Feast your eyes on this." I held out the giant slab of Grandma Singleton's special.

"There's a lot more than a few ounces," Willy frowned.

"Nah, it's mostly air, and it's a cracking piece of cheese, Wallace."

"I'm Willy."

"So you are," I agreed. "And this is all Willy has to swallow to scoop the jackpot."

Susie riffled enticingly through the twenties. "The cash is waiting for you."

"And I could just take it - no messing."

"Come and get it, then."

"I will when Wally comes."

"There's loadsa money here, but if Wally finds out, he'll bagsy it for number one twin, won't he, Willy? Play the game, and we'll say nothing. You can pocket the lot and keep it all for yourself."

"Can you think of a better way to put one over on Wally?" I inveigled. "You're a dead cert to win - two pounds of cheese is peanuts to a man who ate a live gold fish."

"I am still feeling a bit peckish - give it here."

"Wait a minute, you haven't heard the conditions yet."

"I knew it -you're out to trick me," Willy accused.

"No, we're not - it'll be a straight race between us, under strict Marquis of Cheeseberry rules," Susie pledged.

Willy mulled over the proposition for a moment. "That sounds fair - half each, is it?"

"No, it's a bit more complicated than that. The challenge is Alice has to drink this mug of tea, using only a spoon, before you can bolt down the cheese."

"All of it?" Willy surveyed the mini-mountain before him. "That's a lot of cheese, and not much tea. I don't like the odds - and we haven't got a spoon."

"I'll tell you what, then," Susie proposed. "We'll substitute my comb for the spoon, and Alice will use her left-hand. How about that?"

"Hang on, Amy, there's my milk allergy to consider. And a comb could prove a bit messy - I have to keep my flounces beiger than beige. You're better suited to do it."

"But I'm not ambidextrous like you, Alice; I'll be doubly handicapped. It'll give Willy too much of an advantage."

"It's not the winning, but the taking part that counts, Amy."

"Okay, Alice, you've talked me into it - I'm game if Willy is. We're fools to ourselves, but, it's so boring back here, I'm prepared to put your cheese where his mouth is."

Willy scratched his head and considered the matter. "How much have you got there?"

"500 near enough." Susie waved the notes in the air. "All against the twenty and your Johnny 7. We're serving it up to you on a platter - a man of your capacious calibre can't lose."

"And it's something to occupy your mind - you must be under a lot of stress," I suggested. "Go on, eat your worries away."

"I ain't worried, and I don't need your petty cash," Willy sneered. "I'll soon be rolling in money."

"It sounds as if the Pukka pie champ is scared to take up the challenge and put his title on the line, Alice."

"I bloody am not," Willy spluttered. "And I'm going to shut you bloody blatherskites up, once and for all. Give us the cheese - and not a word to Wally about my winnings."

"Our lips will be doubly sealed. Pass it over, Alice."

Willy weighed the slab in his hand before taking a deep sniff. "It smells fusty."

"Don't be put off - that's hand-picked, sock-drawer fromage. It's well-matured, and exuding what your aficionados call a feisty bouquet. Isn't that right, Amy?"

"Pardon Alice's French, Willy - in plain English, it's a gastronome's haute cuisine."

"What's that?"

"Never mind - you obviously don't possess a refined palate. But it doesn't matter because you'll be shovelling it down unlickety-split."

Willy scraped a black fingernail across the top of the cheese. "It's green mouldy."

"That's a protective sheen - underneath it's as fresh as the daisies the cows grazed upon," I insisted.

"Not according to the label."

"That's for the hoi-polloi. People of breeding pooh-pooh best before dates, and you are a distinguished member of the criminal aristocracy," Susie reminded him.

"Just don't you forget it. Me and Wally are used to the very best from the local takeaways."

"And that's what you've got in your hand. Cheese buffs call that slightly off-putting crust a patina," I fancified. "It's a sign of quality, vital for holding in the full flavour. Go on, taste it - we'll allow you a preliminary nibble for free."

Willy picked off a corner and had a tentative chew. "It's not bad at all - better than pork scratchings dunked in lager." He closed his eyes and lingered over another mouthful.

"That's enough connoisseuring for now," Susie ordered. "You won't have time to savour the experience if you want to win. You'll need to wolf it down like a pelican."

"I don't need any girly advice," Willy snorted. "I can swallow a banana whole. I practised on ..."

"I don't wish to know that," I gulped. "You'll be giving me nightmares with your cheesy talk. Come on, are you ready to get down to the serious business?"

"Let's see her use the comb first," Willy demanded.

Susie dipped the comb into the tea, and only succeeded in taking up enough liquid to moisten her lips. "I think we may have miscalculated, Alice. We didn't taken the drip potential fully into account."

"No backsies!" Ernie's eyes lit up in expectation of an easy win. "And no splashing, or you're disqualified. It all has to go down."

"And so does yours - every last bit," I emphasised. "Okay - on your marks - get set - gobble!"

Willy was first away. He thrust a corner of the cheese into his mouth and bit off a massive lump. "Guuuuzzzzzzzzzzzle!"

"Start combing, Amy - he's swallowing it whole."

"Round one to me," Willy spluttered, cramming in another giant wedge.

"Remember the tortoise and the hare," Susie smiled serenely.

"Uuuuhhhh! Guuzzzzzle! Uuuuhhhh! Guuzzzzzle!" Willy's hands were a blur as he put both of them to work.

"Amy's catching you up," I cried, when he paused for breath.

"I need a drink," he gasped. "I've no spit left."

"Here." Susie held out her cup.

"That's not fair," Willy protested. "I'm not eating yours as well."

"Please yourself."

"No, give us a sip." Willy took a liberal swig and attacked the cheese with renewed vigour.

"Don't eat with your mouth full, or you'll choke."

"Take no notice, Willy - Amy's only trying to put you off because you're the best we've ever seen."

"A squirrel could stuff in more than that, Alice. He's hardly made a dent in it."

"I'll show you!" Willy gaped and pushed in the biggest chunk yet, and then another. His cheeks swelled and his eyes popped as if he were blowing a giant, invisible trumpet. "Guuuuuuurrrrggggh! Gaaaaaaaaarrrrggggh! Oooooooooooooohhhhh!"

"That was magnificent masticating," Susie marvelled, as Willy showed signs of weakening after his supreme effort. "Keep going - you've still room for a Christmas pudding."

"You're falling behind, Amy - you'll have to slurp faster, or we're onto a loser. Willy's got the stomach for it."

"But has he got the desire, Alice?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrggghhhhh!"

"It doesn't look like it, Amy - he's going red all over."

"Mmmmmuuuummm, Mmmmmuuuummm."

"You're caving in - you cheese-eating surrender monkey," Susie jeered.

Willy swallowed hard. "It's thickin to the woof of my mowf."

"It's bending the rules, but you can have another have a swig of my tea."

Willy grasped the cup. "Phew, this is making me sweat."

"That's normal - my uncle strips to the waist for his record attempts."

"I wouldn't have thought cooling his legs helped that much, Amy."

"You've a one-track mind, Alice. I'll have to stop you going to those youth clubs."

"Oooooooooooooohhhhhh! This is killing me," Willy wailed, forcing down another eye-popping wodge.

"You won't live to regret it," I consoled. "If you're going to die, then do it on a full stomach."

"Who said that, Alice?"

"Mahatma Ghandi, Amy."

"He knew a thing or two about the wisdom of the feast, Alice."

"I'm going dizzy." Willy had transmogrified into an alarming sight, glassy-eyed and with a Dracula's restaurant of thick blue veins corrugating his neck.

"Don't stop - you've no time to take a breather."

"Down the pudding chute with it - easy-cheesy."

"Keep scoffing - imagine that last little bit is Wally's Percy."

The thought gave Willy a second wind. "In you go!"

"He's really got the cheese between his teeth now, Amy."

"If we had more men like him, we'd still have an empire, Alice."

"All gone!" Willy wheezed, after a final mighty, pucifying effort. "I trounced you."

"Say 'fussy-pussy'."

"Fussy-pussy," Willy spattered.

"We're not convinced - say 'plum jam'."

"Plum jam," he puffed, with only the slightest trace of a slaver.

"The winner!" Susie yelled, and slapped Willy on the top of his Mohican.

"Oooowwww!"

"He won in a canter, Amy. Stilton Cheesewright, himself, would doff his boater at that performance."

"I forgot to comb - I was so excited by his prowess, Alice."

"Give me what's left," Willy begged, and gulped down the last of the tea. "Where's my mon... Ooooooooogggghhh!" Willy arched back onto the seat. "Aaaaarrrgggghhhh!"

"Wait, there's a steward's enquiry - a big green crumb's stuck up your nose."

"Are you sure it's cheese, Amy?"

"Best not take any chances, Alice." Susie extracted the offending green blob and popped it into Willy's mouth. "One last tidgy bogey to go, Mr Creosote."

"Get it down," I exhorted.

Willy groaned, closed his eyes, and swallowed. "I feel pig sick."

"Don't get it up - you can still be disqualified," I warned.

"Uuuuurrrrrrrgghhhh! I can't hardly breathe." Willy reached down and loosened his belt. "I'm suffocating, I need air," he choked. "Oooohhhhhh, I'm dying!" he panicked. "Help me!"

"Open the doors before it's too late. Your only hope is Amy - she has a certificate in raising the dead."

"And what's more, I've done it practically every day this week, so my hand's well in."

"Everything's going black and white," Willy wailed. "And my ears are roaring. What's happening to me!"

"You've got the bends - the lack of oxygen is addling your brain," I exclaimed. "Quick, let us out, or you won't live to be a vegetable."

Willy groped for the dashboard. "Don't tell Wally I did this," he gasped.

"Hurry up," Susie urged, "or you'll soon be beyond caring."

"Oooohhh, Mother Mary ........."

The locks clicked open, we slid back the passenger side door, and leapt out, leaving Willy slumped over the steering wheel.

"Come on, Susie, I'm so relieved I'm even prepared to stick out my bum and thumb a lift."

"Later, Jeffrey." Susie set off to check on Willy. "We have to wrap up this case first."

"Enough, Susie - let's quit while we're ahead; we don't want to hang about and risk meeting up with the evil twin."

"We're on a roll, Jeffrey, and then there's the humanitarian aspect to consider. I took an oath when I received my certificate."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did, but I had my fingers crossed. Anyway, it's too late now - here comes trouble."

Willy had struggled from his seat, staggered around the front of the taxi, and was working his way towards us. "Give me the money - I wooooooooonn," he cried triumphantly, just before receiving a high heel in groin. "Aaaaarrrgggghhhh!"

"Beware of geeks wearing lifts," Susie whooped. "Your ostrich has kicked back with a vengeance."

"And it's given our granny a chance to escape - she's fighting her way out."

"Here she comes - watch it, Denise."

"Hooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrkk!"

I jumped aside, as Willy regurgitated a Niagara of cheese. "Oooooooohhhhh - I'm gooooooooii..." he sighed, and slowly pitched forward onto the ground.

"That was a jab well done, Denise - I think you may have broken Willy's willy to live."

"For a big man, he went down pretty easily Susie."

"He hasn't been eating his full quota of Weetabix, Denise. The best he could do is win a pyrrhic victory."

"Not even that, Susie - it was a closely fought contest, but Grandma Singleton got the final verdict."

"The cheese done good, Denise."

"Oooooooooeeeeerrr, I'm dying again." Willy raised his head, revealing a visage now covered in brown as well as yellow.

"He's on his own, Susie; I'm not giving him the kiss of life."

"Oooooohhhhh, my stomach aches, and I've a pain in my back," Willy groaned.

"Bottoms up - the worst is yet to come," Susie prophesied. "Constipation's on the way, and with all the straining, you'll have piles to match Wally's."

"But don't worry, we'll send you a pound of Pontefract cakes," I promised.

"And enough syrup of figs to blow off the lavatory door."

"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgghhhhhhhhh!" Willy croaked, his eyes swivelling up. "Wally will murder me for this. Uuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrgghhhh!" He managed one last alarming gurgle before the lights all went out, leaving him, lying at our feet, as limp as a rubber glove.

"That's a sound I'll never forget, Jeffrey. Is he dead?"

"If he is, Susie, what a way to go. It's a rock-star's death - choking on your own cheesey vomit."

"And you wanted to buy an umbrella - then where would we have been?"

"Home - I hope. Grab your bag, Susie, and let's disappear into the dusk."

"Don't forget our twenty and his Johnny 7 - that's a collector's item to a man of a certain age."

"Are you thinking of putting it on eBay?"

"Fair dos, Jeffrey, it now belongs to Uncle Frank. His cheese saved the day."

"I suppose we do have the right to confiscate Willy's weapon."

"The spoils of war, Jeffrey - and he should also forfeit his prize possession," Susie grinned, picking up the iPhone.

No sooner was it in her hand than 'Johnny Todd' belted out again.

"Don't answer it, Susie."

"We owe it to the real Alice and Amy; they could still be in grave danger. Delicate hostage negotiations call for a professional touch."

"They're not hostages - they're probably living it up somewhere in a nightclub."

"What about their dad, Jeffrey?"

"Well, what about him, Susie?"

"It's a citizen's duty to save a banker at all costs, Jeffrey."

"Oh, Susie, when will you ever learn!"

 

Chapter 118

"Keep an eye on Willy, Jeffrey, while I concentrate on some more double double-talk."

I put my hand on Susie's arm, as she raised the mobile to her ear. "Let bleeping phones cry - this is asking for trouble."

"I'll give nothing away, Jeffrey, and we may learn something to our advantage. It's a golden opportunity to eavesdrop on the enemy's plans."

"You won't be content with that, Susie. Silence is never the best answer with you. You'll insist on having the last word - and it'll be a provocative one."

"But we need the info. We don't want to meet Wally coming the other way, while we're waltzing merrily along, dressed as Alice and Amy. Think about it, Jeffrey - you know it makes sense."

"In theory," I agreed, "but a spiffing wheeze, on how to foil Wally, will suddenly pop into your head, and it'll be out of the flying van into his line of fire."

"Just a tiny little listen can only help, Jeffrey. If nobody answers, that'll only bring Wally here all the faster."

"Oh, go on - I should know by now it's futile to argue with you when danger calls," I sighed, and joined in with the ringtone.

"But I won't leave my lover standing on the Liverpool side, Jeffrey. We'll be home in time for the shipping forecast. I shall exercise due discretion and let Wally do the talking - just like with Robbie."

"I've bugger all to worry about, then."

"Precisely," Susie smiled, and tapped 'Answer'. "Your fears are unfounded - and Wally's hopes will be confounded." She raised the phone to her ear and made as if to zip her lip.

"Where the hell have you been, Willy?"

"Give him an incoherent grunt," I whispered.

"Uuuuhhhh, uuuuhhhh."

"We've got it, Willy. The money's out of the bank and into the bags."

"Uuuuhhhh, uuuuhhhh."

"Is that you, Willy?"

"Uuuuhhhh, uuuuhhhh."

"What the shite are you playing at, you bloody binhead?"

"Don't you 'bloody binhead' me. Show some respect, you silly sod."

"Who's that - where's Willy?"

"Caam down, caam down, la. Willy's indisposed - he bit of more than he could chew."

"I'll give him in-bloody-disposed - put the cow head on."

"No can do."

"That's Amy, isn't it? Now listen, I've got your dad here."

"No, you haven't, and this isn't Amy. You've got your misses mixed up."

"Alice, Amy - what's the effing difference! Don't fiddle-arse around with me - get Willy!"

"He's already been got - Willy's been whacked. The Santini family are in control this end."

"Noooooo, Susie!" I hissed, waving frantically at her to shut up.

"Leave it to me, Jeffrey," she whispered. "Inspiration has struck. I can always tell - I don't know what I'm going to say next."

"If anything's happened to Willy, it'll be the worse for you. What's going on there - who are you?"

"You heard - Signor Santini's girls. The Shoreham Mafia are in the driving seat now, and we don't take kindly to upstart outsiders muscling in on our territory."

"The Shoreham Mafia? I've never bloody heard of them."

"Of course you haven't - you're not a friend of ours. We don't do business with any Willy Wally Wonkas."

"Whoever you bloody are, you're doing business with me. I'm coming for Willy, and the barmisod had better be back on the job when I get there."

"That's fine with us, hurry along, or it'll be the worse for him - if it isn't already."

"I don't know how you got hold of the daft buggers phone, but I'll sort out the lot of you. Tell Willy that!"

"Tell him yourself - and don't forget to bring the loot with you. We want to negotiate our share of the spoils before we free Willy."

"I'll negotiate you up a badger's arse, and I'll be bringing a lot more than the loot with me."

"Careful, Wally boy, you're playing in Serie A now. We have amici in high places. The Carabinieri are on our payroll."

"Don't you get eggy with me."

"And don't you try any funny business with us - Johnny Banana's crew have you under constant surveillance."

"Johnny who's crew?"

"You heard - Signor Santini has his ice-cream vans everywhere, and there's Magnums in them thar freezers."

"You're bloody bananas, Amy, or whoever you bloody are. Stay there, and wait for me and your dad. Here, Hammill, see if you can talk some sense into her."

"Listen, Amy, I know you're upset, but be a good girl, and do what the man says. Everything will be all right when I get there. We'll soon clear up any little misunderstandings. I love you, and you, Alice."

"Don't worry, Mr Hammill, your daughters are safe and sound. Make a run for it if you get the chance."

"I have to go, Amy - just sit tight for a little while, and then I'll take you home to mum."

"Did you get that?"

"Loud and clear, Wally boy."

"Right, let's have no more coming the rubber duck. And tell that tosspot Willy he'd better sober up before I get there."

"We'll be expecting you, but you're both in for a surprise. Arrivederci, Wallio." Susie chuckled with pleasure, and popped the phone into her bag. "How about that, Jeffrey - mission accomplished."

"Why did you have to tell him all that guff, Susie?" I wailed.

"We might as well make use of our connections, Jeffrey."

"But we haven't got any connections, Susie."

"Yes, but Wally's not to know, and that little bit of Soprano talk will make him think twice."

"If he gets his hands on us, Susie, we won't be talking like Sopranos - we'll be singing like sopranos."

"We already do, Denise."

"And that's why he'll laugh his socks off when he meets the ballroom dancing division of the local Mafia. We couldn't even pass for RSPCA officers dressed like this."

"I could, Jeffrey."

"Well, it won't do us any good with Wally. You've had your fun, Susie, now it's time to get serious and run for it."

"I was serious, and I put the wind up him."

"No, you didn't, and we still don't know which way to turn. You forgot to ask where he'll be coming from."

"He wouldn't have told me."

"So it was all pretty pointless, then."

"Well, I enjoyed it - but if you want to call it a day."

"I certainly do."

"Okay what's it to be, then - a dash across the countryside?"

"Not in these high heels."

"We could hitch a ride on that tractor. It's starting work in this field."

"I don't want to risk getting silaged. Let's try for lift - we can pretend we broke down."

"All right, but how are we going to explain the dead body?"

"Who says he's dead?"

Susie surveyed Willy's prostrate form. "The podgy porpoise is as choked as Prince was."

"No, he's not - there's a hint of pink about him. He's in a state of suspended animation."

"Questions will still be asked."

"Not if he's out of sight - we'll push the taxi over him. Come on, lend a hand."

We bent down, took a leg each, and hauled.

"Whoops, he's doing the splits, Jeffrey."

"We should be going in the same direction, Susie."

"Okay, the front end it is." Susie swung round, and we dragged Willy across the grass into position.

"Grab his arm, and let's line him up between the wheels."

We worked as a couple, and Willy slewed. "That's it, Jeffrey - he's going straight down the middle."

"Time to put our shoulders to the boot, Susie."

We hurried to the rear of the taxi and began shoving.

"Uuuuhhhh, Uuuuhhhh, Uuuuuuhhhhh, Uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh!"

"We've hit a rock or something, Jeffrey; it won't go any further."

Back at the front, the obstacle loomed large. "He won't fit, Susie - his stomach's in the way."

"You can't put Willy where Willy won't go, Jeffrey."

"We'll have to leave his feet sticking out, Susie - that's a bit of a giveaway."

"It's all right. If anyone gets curious, we'll say he's trying to fix the shubidoobie thingamajig."

"The what?"

"We'll be putting on a helpless girl act, Jeffrey. Don't you go all technical and start talking about refurbishing big ends with duct tape and WD-40. Act blonde - we want to avoid arousing suspicion."

"Got it, Susie, and if they ask Willy a question and are puzzled why he's not answering, we'll tell them he's Polish and doesn't speak English."

"Wouldn't deaf be safer?"

"Deaf and Polish - we can't be too careful."

"There's still the danger they'll give his shoes a kick."

I looked down at Willy's splayed-out size 12s. "Even if they don't, I can't see them being totally convinced by our story, Susie."

"We've done all we can, Jeffrey - let's put some distance between us and the body, and hope for the best."

"Perhaps we should bend his knees into a more mechanic-like posture."

"There's no time - here comes our ride." Susie waved at the car rounding the bend. "And would you believe it - this one's a gold BMW."

"Oh no!" I was instantly dismayed by what I saw. "My telescopic vision tells me all our efforts have been for nought, Susie. There's two men in it, and number one twin is driving. Wally hasn't wasted any time getting here. He must have already been on his way."

"I wonder whether they're psychic twins, Jeffrey, and he senses Willy's in trouble."

"If that's psychic as in psycho, I wouldn't be at all surprised."

"He's seen us - we'll soon find out."

"I hate to disappoint you, Susie, but we're off."

"Not so fast, Jeffrey, we may as well stay and make a proper job of it."

"Are you crazy, Susie? Wally's mad, bad, and dangerous to know - and he's got a real gun."

"We're not challenging him to a duel, Jeffrey. It'll be safer if we stand fast - even you can't outrun a bullet. Our only hope is to play up the Santini angle. Forget blonde, and think mobster's moll."

"Any other bright ideas?"

"Yes, failing that, we'll bop him over the head with a blunt instrument - the blunter the better."

"We haven't got an instrument, Susie - blunt or otherwise."

"The wheel brace, Jeffrey - and we'll get out the jack as well. I've just dreamt up a super enhancement to my latest cunning plan."

"That seems barely possible, Susie. What is it?"

"We'll pretend we kicked over the jack and dropped the taxi on Willy while he was inspecting the spondulicks. That'll prove to Wally we're as ruthless as he is."

"Except we don't have a gun," I objected, hurrying after her to the back of the van.

"We won't need one; that's the beauty of my scheme. We'll wait until Wally bends down to pull out his beloved Willy, and then - Kapow!"

"What if Wally's so ruthless, he doesn't care what's happened to his beloved Willy?"

"No man's that ruthless, Jeffrey."

"I wouldn't bank on it, Susie, but grab a handle, and we'll try to hit him with our best shot."

We dragged out the toolbox, lugged it round to the front, and made our arrangements.

"Is everything in position, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, Susie, the jack's beside the wheel, the brace is in your bag, and my heart's in my mouth."

"Then let's meet our next victim halfway."

"I only hope that's what he turns out to be."

Susie didn't flinch when the BMW skidded to a halt, and Wally leapt from the car carrying a small machine pistol.

"It's not even as big as Willy's, Jeffrey."

"I think that's his Uzi, Susie."

"And it'll be Susie's Uzi before we leave," she muttered. "Here he comes, Jeffrey. Stare him straight in the eye, and don't blink when you speak; that'll show him what cold-hearted killers we are."

"It'll send a shiver down his spine, Susie. I do believe he's already quaking in his boots."

Wally had hobbled half way towards us when a cry halted him in his tracks. "That's not Alice and Amy," his passenger shouted, before quickly ducking back out of sight.

"Then who the hell are you?" Wally demanded, while taking a disconcerting look up above to check nothing was going to fall on his head.

"We aren't angels flying too close to the ground; we're Mr Santini's, girls, exactly as we told you," Susie calmly smiled in response.

Wally redirected his gaze. "You're nothing but a pair of floosies."

"We're part of the new wave, equal opportunities Mafia, but none the less merciless for that," Susie bluffed. "Have you brought the money along with your pea-shooter?"

Wally advanced and waved his Uzi in the air. "All you need to know is I've brought this, and it makes me a bigger man than any Mr Santini."

"It doesn't do much for your personality, though."

"Whoops - watch your head, Susie!" I cried, pulling her clear of Wally's swipe.

"You - where's Willy?" he snarled at me.

"Don't shout at Denise - she's in a state of shock. Willy was crushed to death before her very eyes."

"Where is he? I won't ask again," Wally threatened, raising his gun and his head.

"Look down - he's under there." Susie pointed to Willy's feet. "The car fell on him while he was changing the gizmo thingy. Accidents will happen to folk who take liberties with the Santinis."

"The bloody daft git!"

"We can see you're upset, but if it's any comfort, his final thoughts were of you. Willy's last words were 'Wally will murder me for this'," I consoled.

"And he never stopped talking about you - how are your piles?" Susie solicitously enquired. "Willy had already bought you an inflatable rubber ring for Christmas. It's on top of the wardrobe, so you'll have something to remember him by whenever you get a pain in the arse."

"You're the ones who'll have the pain in the arse - get out of my way." Wally pushed between us and limped over to the taxi.

We followed at a respectable distance. "Are you sure about this, Susie," I whispered.

"Brace yourself, Denise," Susie murmured, as Wally bent down. "It won't be a pretty sight."

"I'm closing my eyes, Susie."

"Do you want to do that as well, Mr Big? We won't laugh."

"You're part of the bloody pansy mafia, if you ask me," Wally grunted, slinging the machine pistol around his neck, and seizing Willy by the ankles.

"I expect you're used to seeing plenty of blood and gore, being an ex-boxer."

"I was a fighter, not a boxer, and I've 'Kill Or Be Killed' tattooed across my chest from my days at the abattoir."

"That'll stand you in good stead, because it's mostly gore under there. I gave Willy a poke and had a peek before you arrived."

"Just shut it." Wally squatted down and jerked on Willy's feet, but Willy refused to budge. "Bugger! What's holding him?"

"His stomach could have swelled in a death bloat, like a cow's," I offered. "What's he been eating - was he a vegan?"

"Shut bloody up!" Wally redoubled his efforts.

"Look at the muscles on those elbows, Denise."

"Uuuuhhhh, Uuuuhhhh, Uuuuuuhhhhh, Uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh!"

"Aaaaaarrrrggghhh!" A horrified cry came from under the taxi. "I've been buried alive."

"Willy!"

"Wally! Are you dead too?"

"No, you bloody idiot - and neither are you." Wally worked out his frustration with an extra violent tug. "Come here!"

Willy sat up just as his head emerged. Thuuunnnnnnnnnnnnkkk! There was a resounding crack of bone on bumper.

"Oooooowwwwwww! I've been deaded again," Willy wailed, and collapsed back into silence, save for the plaintive hiss of escaping wind.

"Now look what you've done - you've killed him good and proper this time," Susie accused. "Get down and jump on his chest before it's too late."

"Hurry, and clear his airways," I ordered, as Susie opened her bag. "He's gurgling. You'll be cursed for all eternity if you've killed your twin. The mark of Cain will forever be upon you."

"And it's that stupid bugger's fault," Wally raged. He leant forward, and, in a tender show of brotherly love, delivered a stinging blow to Willy's cheek. "Don't you bloody haunt me," he yelled.

"Now, Susie!"

"Take one for your ma, la!" Susie swung the wheel brace just as Wally took another of his precautionary looks aloft.

"What the ... Oooooowwwwwww!" Wally took the blow full on the point of his elbow, and ended up sprawled on top of his Uzi and Willy. "Ooooooooooooohhhhh!"

"See if your funny bone can laugh that off!"

"Run, Susie!" I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her after me, managing to sink a heel up the crack of Wally's bum on the way.

"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhhhhh!"

"Ooooooooo! A stiletto up the jacksy, Denise. That's piling on the agony."

"Through the gate, Susie. Let's get behind the hedge."

"I just knew we'd end up legging it, Jeffrey."

"We should have done this at first - then we would have had a flying start."

"This is no time for 'I told you so'. At least I put his gun arm out of action."

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"I'll marmalise them for you, Willy!"

"Oh hell, we're under fire!"

"Over here," I yelled, and dashed for the advertising hoarding.

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat ! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Never touched us!"

"Get down, Susie!"

"Watch your head, Jeffrey!"

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat ! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Oooff!"

"Oooff!"

I landed on top of Susie as a hail of bullets ripped through the plywood above us.

Takka-takka-takka! Takka-takka-takka!

"This is what comes of watching modern day mayhem, Susie - you should have stuck to the classics."

"Oh, Jeffrey, is this the end of the little teasers?"

 

Chapter 119

"It's gone quiet, Susie."

"Too damn quiet, Jeffrey."

"I wonder if the varmint's all-fired out of ammo."

"It looked a Mickey Mouse of a gun - maybe it's jammed."

I risked a peep through one of the newly minted holes and spied Wally frantically fiddling with his weapon. "Now's our chance to run for it, Susie; whatever he's trying to do, he can't manage with one good arm."

"Come on, then, we can use that nearest bale of silage for cover."

Hand in hand, we dashed for the safety of the big black drum.

"Keep going, Susie," I urged, when we rounded it, "Wally's lurching after us."

"Make for the tractor, Jeffrey," Susie panted, as we jinked our way across the field from one bale to the next. "Wally won't want an eyewitness to his intended misdemeanours."

"The driver's seen us, Susie - he's stopping - and sounding his horn."

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnk! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnk!

"That should put the wind up Wally. Let's hope he decides to turn the other elbow and bugger off back to pulling out his beloved Willy."

"I'm going to blow your bloody heads off!"

"No chance," I cried, as Wally's mad shrieks echoed across the field.

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Sod this for a lark, Jeffrey - the bugger's no sportsman."

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a ...

"Bloody bollocks!"

"Sounds as if it's jammed again, Susie, but don't look back."

"Does this remind you of anything, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, Susie, and on the whole, I'd rather be dodging the tackles of a rugby snob of Heighton, than the bullets of a soccer yob of Everton."

"We're not the only ones cutting and running. The farmer's abandoned ship, and he's going like the clappers."

"He must be scared an armed gang's out to hijack his tractor, Susie; he's off to hide in the woods."

"Shit in the woods would be nearer the mark, Jeffrey. Hey, Craptain Courageous - how about women and children first?" Susie shouted after him.

"What a letdown! A homicidal rambler with a machine gun trespasses on his acreage, and he leaves us to our fate. Where are the yeomen of England when you need them, Susie?"

"Bugger the beggar, Jeffrey, he's gifted us a prize. Come on, our battle cruiser awaits. We'll shame him with our hearts of oak."

Ten seconds later, we were swallowed up in the lengthening shadow of the caterpillar-tracked behemoth. "It's a funny colour, Susie, but it's built like a tank. Do you think you can drive it?"

"Need you ask, Jeffrey - with any luck, it'll be one of those with a sat-nav and all the latest bells and whistles."

We halted under the open door of the tractor, and I had a quick glance over my shoulder. "Wally's still on the move, Susie, and he's waving his wand in the air. Hurry, jump aboard." I boosted Susie up the ladder, and clambered into the cabin after her.

"Made it, Jeffrey, and you haven't even thrown a shoe," Susie marvelled. "You'd be odds-on favourite at the high heels Olympics."

"Thank you, Susie, but I was favoured by the firm going and urged on by the crack of a pistol."

"Let's see if I can whip this beast along," Susie grinned, and sank into the plush driver's seat. "The farmer's pimped his ride, Jeffrey; this is top gear machinery."

"It certainly is a luxury model, and it's got more controls than a jumbo jet. This'll be a challenge, even for you, Susie."

"I'll tame the brute, Jeffrey. I just hope it's more responsive than the old bus. I had to fight that every inch of the way, and fly it by the seat of my pants."

"This thing looks as if it could drive itself."

"There's no substitute for the hands on approach," Susie asserted, swiftly demonstrating her belief by pushing and pulling every available control.

"Hey, don't do the hokey-cokey with it - there might be an ejector seat."

"I've sussed it out now, Jeffrey. Hold on to your tassels, and prepare for take-off."

I crossed my fingers, Susie shoved at a lever, stamped on a pedal, and amazingly we roared away.

"You've done it - but where are we going?"

"And it's slowing us down, Susie - we're baling as we trundle. Can't you detach the trailer?"

"I've only two hands, Jeffrey. Try that thingamabob next to you."

I reached forward and hit the button.

"Boop-boop-a-doop!"

"Oh, what's that?"

"Welcome back, Jeremy."

"Who?"

"You, Jeremy - don't be shy. I know your touch - you're such a smooth operator."

"Oh boy, Jeffrey, that's your best Marilyn yet, and you're not even wearing the wig and dress. I could be sitting next to her - you've got the American accent so off to a gee."

"No, I haven't - we must have turned the radio on."

"You've aroused me, Jeremy. Say something agricultural, sweetie-pie, and I'll blow my top for you. Wooooh! Wooooh!"

I looked around the cab in alarm. "Where are you?"

"You're sitting in my lap, big boy - put your hand on my throttle."

"Jeffrey - what's come over you? This is no time for monkey business."

"It's not me," I protested.

"Don't tease, Jeremy."

"And you, Jeffrey - you're distracting me."

"It's the tractor that's distracting, Susie. It's got a voice of its own."

"I know, Jeffrey."

"Then switch it off."

"You do it, Jeremy; you're the one who turned her on," Susie laughed. "I have to correct our course before we land in the ditch."

"You're coming in too high and wide, handsome."

"Are we, Susie?"

"We could be, Jeffrey - I think one of these dials says we're at 30,000 feet."

"I love you, Jeremy."

"Shut up - I'm Jeffrey."

"Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy."

"Ooohh, help, Susie - how do we silence Terence the Tractor?"

"I'm Marilyn, Jeremy, and you're the only man for me. We're getting married in the morning."

"This is a peculiar optional extra, Susie - what's going on?"

"Jeremy the Farmer's one of those petrosexuals, and he's got a talking tractor for a girlfriend. The things folk get up to nowadays. I curse the Internet and all who surf in her. It's the devil's work."

"We shouldn't judge him too harshly, Susie; it must be boring sitting on your own in a cab all day. But Radio 4 and Charlotte Green is far more appropriate company for a gentleman farmer."

"He's no gentleman, Jeffrey - deserting his post when the bullets started flying. I'd give him the five feathers and the white finger."

"I love you, Jeremy."

"I'm Jeffrey - you've a bug in your software."

"And Jeremy's the one to put it there."

"That's all you know," Susie scoffed. "The soft beggar's a proper Jeremy - all mouth and no trousers."

"I'll always love you, Jeremy, in spite of your little peccadilloes."

"More fool you - it'll end in tears. He's only interested in your twin carburettors and vertical exhaust."

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"This is no time for agony aunting, Susie. Wally's in hot pursuit, and he's two-armed and dangerous again."

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Fasten your seatbelt, Jeffrey, I'm taking evasive action," Susie whooped, and swung the wheel hard over.

"Oh, that's wonderful, Jeremy! Do it again."

"It was pretty nifty, if I say so myself, Jeffrey."

"Beautifully executed, Susie - the only thing is you overdid it, and we're heading straight down the barrel of Wally's gun."

"Roadkill on the starboard bow, Jeremy. Right, right, left a bit."

Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!

"Duck, Susie!"

Chinga-chinga-chinga! Wally's next salvo spattered against the engine cowling.

"His aim's improving, Jeffrey."

Chinga-chinga-chinga!

"I've got a headache, Jeremy."

"Will you shut up!" I cried, and banged down hard on the control console.

Roooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrr!

"Oooooooooooooooooooo, Jeremy!"

"Blooming heck, Jeffrey, it's even got a turbocharger."

"Oooohhh!" I grabbed hold of the seat as we suddenly leapt forward. "My knuckles have gone white, Susie. Get it under control."

"Which button did you press?"

"I don't know - I wasn't looking."

"Give the yellow one a thump."

"Autopilot on. Sit back and relax, Jeremy - I'll take it from here."

"Oh, that's done it," I wailed, as we lurched violently to the left.

"Hold on, Jeffrey - Marilyn's got a mind of her own."

"Where are we going, Susie?"

"Back the way we came, Jeffrey. And we've had a result - Wally's appeared in our sights."

"Switching to search and scythe mode."

"We're chasing him down, Susie." Up ahead, Wally was in self-preservation mode, hopping and swerving for his life. "And we've had an even better result - he's so desperate - he's thrown away his gun."

"You should have got yourself a big bazooka for a tank job," Susie hollered. "Your little Uzi's no use against the pansies' panzer."

"We've cured his limp, but he still can't get away fast enough, Susie. Wally's another one who's eaten too many pies."

"Whoops, his fancy footwork's done for him, Jeffrey. He must have tripped over a tear in the grass."

"And now he's put his foot in something, Susie."

"Those pesky wabbits, Jeffrey."

Wally stumbled on, flailing his arms to try and regain his balance, until gravity finally triumphed.

"He's taken a dive, Susie; he's spread out as flat as a pancake."

"Tally-ho!"

"He soon will be permanently, Jeffrey; we're going to run straight over him."

"There's plenty of clearance - he may get away with it if he keeps his head down and doesn't panic."

"Locked on to target - lowering cutters."

"He's panicking, Jeffrey; he can see what's coming."

"Where's the emergency brake, Susie?"

"It's too late, Jeffrey. This will mean at least three points on my driving licence - if I had one."

"Close your eyes, Susie."

"Preparing for silaging."

"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgghhhhhhhhh!" Wally's scream penetrated the sound-proofed cab, as he looked to the heavens for one last time, before the shiny pink monster swallowed him up.

"He's a goner, Jeffrey - this could be messy."

"Turn on the windscreen wipers, just in case."

Thudda-dudda-dudda-dudddd!

"I bet that smarted."

"Just wait until we make mincemeat of him, Susie."

Gloppitta! Gloppitta! Gloppitta!

"What's happening now, Jeffrey?"

Gloppitta! Gloppitta! Gloppitta!

"Wally's being processed."

"Foreign object in baler. Switching in emergency power."

Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

"It sounds as if he's being given the full works, Jeffrey."

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrp! Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrp!

"There he goes, Susie."

"Blockage cleared."

Thuuuummpity! Thuuuummpity! Thuuuuuuuuuuummmmmpp!

"I think that's crisis over, Jeffrey." Susie had a quick glance in the mirror. "Marilyn's laid a big black egg."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! You filled me to bursting, tiger. It was our best ever, Sir Jeremy!"

"An unexpected climax, Susie, but nonetheless welcome. Turn off Knightrider, and let's inspect the damage."

"Vehicle reversing, vehicle reversing - keep clear."

"Oops, wrong one again, but I finally got Marilyn to say something sensible."

"You'll have to marry me after this, Jeremy."

"Try and get her to say nothing, Susie. Push the big red button."

"Here goes - I just hope it's not for self-destruct."

Shutting down, shutting down. Goodnight, sweet prince - dream about me. See you at breakfast. Boop-boop-a-doop!

"And a boop-boop-a-doo to you," I gasped in relief, flinging the door open. "Come on, Susie, let's skedaddle before Marilyn changes her mind."

Susie got up from the driver's seat and looked back out of the window. "I suppose it's our duty to check for survivors, Jeffrey."

"Which section of the Highway Code is that, Susie?"

"It's common humanity, Jeffrey - and we want to make sure Wally's not going to jump up and start chasing us again, like in all those slasher movies."

"Okay," I sighed, "but he won't be a pretty sight."

"Should I bring the first aid kit and the axe?"

"Wally's way beyond your certificate, Susie, and he definitely won't be spontaneously reassembling himself."

We climbed down from the cab and cautiously surveyed our newly shorn wake.

"Where is he, Jeffrey? I expected to see assorted body parts."

I walked ahead to the freshly disgorged bale, and peeked through my fingers. "They're not hiding behind here, Susie," I called. "What's left of Wally must be all neat in black plastic."

"Bagged with the grass - that's another case successfully wrapped up, then."

"We've slain the churl and Lady Mindegreen. Geddit, Susie?"

"Surely good Mrs Murphy shall follow you all the days of your life, Jeffrey."

"Oh, you did get it."

"You're not the only one who's watched Countdown and googled for pmore. This time you'll have to forego the pleasure of exhibiting your superior knowledge."

"And I won't have to explain Wally's death, either. It could be months before he turns up in the feeding trough. I wonder what they'll make of it, Susie."

"A freak accident if ever there was one, Jeffrey. Devoured by Marilyn the killer tractor. The Fates seem to have conspired against the Straker twins."

"Well, at least this one won't be troubled with his piles again."

"It was an extreme solution, and another bizarre death to add to our ever lengthening list. Ending up as a cow's winter rations - how unlucky can a man get, Susie?"

"Perhaps Wally trod on the Pope's corns in a previous life, Jeffrey."

"That must be it, Susie," I smiled. "But he can redeem himself by making a wonderful cheese in the next one."

 

Chapter 120

"The BMW's still there, Jeffrey."

"So is its passenger, Susie."

"And he's finally moving himself, now that he's seen we're alive and kicking," Susie huffed, as we marched back across the field towards the gate.

We watched a sleek man slide out of the car, stroll to the front of the taxi, and give Willy an exploratory kick.

"I suppose it is Alice's and Amy's dad."

"They're welcome to him, Jeffrey. Where was Mr Moneybags in our hour of need? Sitting on his fat behind in gold-plated luxury, looking after number one - that's where."

"He is a banker."

"And we've saved the beggar a fortune. Let's give him the good news about his darling daughters, and hope he has the decency to show his instant gratitude."

"You can't expect him to slip us a bundle of twenties from the late Wally's estate, Susie. Bankers have taken the Hypocritic oath to look after their customer's money."

"Only after skimming off their share first, Jeffrey, and if anyone deserves a performance bonus, we do."

"I'll be more than happy if we can persuade him to drop us at the nearest bus stop before he calls the police. Honestly, Susie, I think we should turn around and disappear into the woods while we still have the chance."

"Don't worry, Jeffrey, I've already worked up a lulu of a story to explain our desire for complete anonymity."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Susie," I sighed, as we approached the taxi, and the sharply dressed, immaculately coiffeured, gentleman turned to greet us.

"Thank goodness you're all right. I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you," he effused, with all the fake sincerity at his command.

"Mr Hammill, I presume. I'm Susie and this is Denise."

"I'm pleased to meet you." He exchanged a handshake with Susie, while casting a beady eye over both of us. "I assume you've realised there's been an unfortunate case of mistaken identity."

"Right from the start," Susie affirmed, "but, try as we might, we couldn't convince Willy, here, of the error of his ways. He remained credulous to the very end."

"I can see why," Mr Hammill nodded thoughtfully. "Dressed like that, you're almost dead ringers for my Alice and Amy."

"Not quite," Susie frowned, "but it wasn't for want of Gog and Magog doing their utmost."

"If this is Gog," Mr Hammill honoured Willy with another toe-poke, "where is Magog? He frightened the life out of me, the cavalier way he waved that gun around. What's become of him - has he met with a shooting accident?"

"No, but we nearly did, seeing as you left us to that maniac's tender mercies," Susie accused. "You knew how to keep your head down in a crisis."

"I had no idea what was going on," Mr Hammill protested. "My first responsibility is to the bank's money. There's over a million pounds ransom in the car."

Susie raised her eyebrows. "Yours must be a big bank."

"A main branch - and it's the last Thursday in the month. We had a mountain of cash on hand. The scoundrel struck at the most opportune moment."

"Meticulous planning on his part, Susie," I murmured.

"I wonder where someone from Liverpool got all his information about Mr Hammill's bank and family, Denise. Who would have thought a hare-brained Wally capable of such an intrigue?"

"You seem to know a lot about Wally from such a fleeting acquaintance." Mr Hammill's voice acquired an unpleasant edge, and his eyes narrowed. "Were you in league with him by any chance?"

"Don't be daft," Susie snorted. "Didn't you see the brute try to kill us?"

"Well, he is mad. And you do appear strangely unruffled, after what you've been through."

"We're fatalists."

"Who are somehow au fait with Wally's background and character."

"Only because wittering Willy, couldn't keep his mouth shut," Susie glared. "We even know Wally's toilet habits and the name of his ex-goldfish."

Mr Hammill deliberated for a moment. "A plausible explanation, I suppose, but there's still the question of how you got yourselves into this situation as Alice and Amy look-alikes."

"We accidentally acquired your daughter's dance costumes," I explained. "Which led Willy to jump to conclusions and kidnap us by mistake."

"Willy's only capable of one thought at a time, and he insisted we were Alice and Amy. Nothing we said could change his mind," Susie stressed. "We had to go along with his delusion, on pain of a death worse than fate."

"This affair has absolutely nothing to do with us," I snuffled. "We're a pair of perfectly innocent bystanders who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, wearing the wrong clothes."

Susie put her arm around my shoulder. "Don't cry, Denise, any normal person could see we devote our energies to fandangoing, not bank robbing."

"I'm sorry - perhaps I have been a little tactless," Mr Hammill apologised. "Really, I should never have entertained the idea, but my nerves are shot to pieces." He anxiously looked out across the field. "What did happen to Wally - are we safe from any further lunacy on his part?"

"All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put the numpty together again," Susie chanted. "The gun-crazy beggar didn't watch where he was going and had a great fall into the baler."

"It ground Wally up into little pieces and conveniently repackaged him for later use. He's as silly a sausage as Willy now."

"More like a black pudding, Denise."

Mr Hammill relaxed and loosened his tie a notch. "A gruesome end, either way, and a fate I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy." He paused and flicked a bead of sweat off his brow. "What a waste."

"Not entirely," I smiled. "Wally will be providing a prize dairy herd with its protein supplement."

"He'll make a welcome change from the usual frog flavour," Susie grinned.

"You have an odd sense of humour," Mr Hammill frowned. "But, then again, you are a pair of singular girls."

"It's a good job for you we are, or you'd be short a million quid," Susie reminded him.

"Quite, and the bank won't forget your sterling work."

"How much won't it forget?" Susie enquired politely.

"That's a board decision. First off, we must inform the police of our situation without further delay. Have you a phone?"

"No," Susie lied. "Willy threw ours out of the taxi, and we stamped on his in revenge when we got the chance. It served the bugger right, because he treated us something rotten."

Mr Hammill regarded Willy's motionless form. "And what did you do to him?"

"Nothing - the size of the job put a strain on his stomach, after he indulged in some comfort overeating."

"You're too kind to him, Denise; the truth is the greedy pig wolfed down enough for three men."

"So what's he doing under the taxi? It's a peculiar place to sleep it off."

"Willy was inspecting the doodahs for leaks when his excesses suddenly caught up with him. I had to cover Alice's ears when he cursed the cucumber, and he hasn't uttered a word since."

"We were happy to see the feet of him, and didn't rush to his assistance."

"Well, we can't leave Willy here; he might come round and make a run for it."

Susie took her turn to kick a man when he's down, and got no response. "Willy's out to the world; he won't be going anywhere before the police arrive."

"We don't want them to steal the glory." Mr Hammill straightened his tie and stiffened his spine. "It'll be a feather in my cap to have foiled a pair of armed robbers and recovered the bank's money."

"Just a minute we did all the ..."

"No, Mr Hammill's right, Susie - and he's in the best position to report things to the police. It'll only complicate affairs if we get involved."

"I bow to your superior judgement, Denise - credit where credit's undue, as always."

"That's settled, then," Mr Hammill declared. "Now, if you'll give me a hand - this Willy's a big lad."

"And unpredictable - we don't want to share a seat with him," I shuddered.

"In that case, we won't take the rogue with us. We'll lock him securely in the taxi." Mr Hammill pulled Willy clear. "Oh dear, someone's a messy eater," he grimaced.

"A face that lunched on a thousand chips. Poor old Willy," I sympathised. "First impressions are so important, and he's failed on all counts with you, Mr Hammill."

"He certainly has, my dear." Mr Hammill wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I'll take his head, and you take a leg each. Ready - lift."

"A day and a half, this has turned out to be," Susie grunted, as we staggered to the rear door.

The jolting journey jogged Willy into life. "What's happening?" he groaned.

"Ain't it grand to be bloomin' well dead," Susie laughed.

"Oh, no - not again! Where am I?"

"You're on your way to Brazil," I cooed. "Go back to sleep, , and dream of the Topabanana - you're the number one now."

Willy nodded off again with a contented smile on his face.

"That's put him in his place." Mr Hammill fastidiously wiped his hands of Willy, and threw away the hanky, before locking down the passenger compartment.

"What goes around, comes around, Denise."

"I sincerely hope not, Susie."

"You're too kind, my dear - the villain will get what he richly deserves," Mr Hammill crowed. "Now let's be off, before they send out a search party for us."

"We should make ourselves scarce, Susie," I whispered, as Mr Hammill started back towards his BMW.

"Not yet, Denise - pick up our Johnny 7, and follow me." Susie was already on her way to the car, so I reluctantly traipsed after her, weapon in hand.

"That's a big gun for a little girl," Mr Hammill smirked, as he opened the rear door for us. "Don't point it at me, please - I've looked down enough barrels today."

"We promise not to shoot you," Susie grinned.

"Then get in, girls. Next stop the police station, and we'll soon have everything sorted out."

"Definitely not," I hissed, and gave Susie a tug on the arm.

"If it's all the same to you," she smiled at Mr Hammill, "just drop us off at the nearest bus-stop, and we'll take it from there."

"But the police will want to interview you; you're vital witnesses."

"We know nothing of importance, but we've a lot to hide," I confessed. "We'd rather make our own way home."

"It's getting dark - I can't leave two young girls alone in the wilds, especially after the ordeal you've been through."

"Worse things happen at sea - and they did on the boat coming over. We're strangers in a strange land, aren't we, Denise?"

"I certainly am, Susie."

"You sound irredeemably local."

"That's because we picked up our English from watching Coronation Street, chuck. The truth of the matter is, we're illegal immigrants." Susie beamed with pleasure at her latest flight of fancy and nodded across at me.

"If it wasn't for us sending our wages home, sport, our family in Oz would starve watching the plasma telly."

"Don't tease, Denise." Susie smacked my wrist. "You could land us in serious trouble. I'm sorry, Mr Hammill, but put her in high heels, and the little minx can never pass up an opportunity to play the cheeky girl."

"You both seem remarkably high-spirited after such a traumatic experience. Are you sure you aren't in shock from having all those bullets flying around your ears?"

"We're used to being in the firing line; we've a spare time job at the circus as knife-throwers assistants."

"That's when we're not working our fingers to the bone chambermaiding."

"And getting trench foot bogle picking."

"You have been industrious," Mr Hammill grinned.

"You don't know the half of it. We're trouble maker's bottom knockers."

"Cease your foolish chatter, Denise, we're not in the pickle factory now - we must learn to behave more like English gentlemen in high society."

"I really don't know what to make of you two."

"And we're not sure about you, either," I blurted out.

"Oh!" Mr Hammill was taken aback. "Have I done something else to upset you?"

"No, it's just that ..."

"Don't act silly, Denise, or we won't get a lift."

"But I'm puzzled, Susie, and we should be super cautious after what's happened. Why didn't Mr Hammill realise it wasn't the genuine Amy on the phone?"

"The fact is I had my suspicions." Mr Hammill, somewhat shame-facedly, answered the question for us. "But I'd no desire to play the hero. Wally had his gun to my head, and I was glad to have any excuse to cooperate."

"And hide the fact that your loyalty to the bank might have been found wanting," Susie suggested.

"I'm afraid so," Mr Hammill admitted. "After all," he nodded at the two bulging cricket bags on the back seat, "it is only money."

"And not even yours," I observed.

"Quite," Mr Hammill muttered. "So if everything's now to your satisfaction, can we be on our way?"

"All things considered, we'd still rather walk." I took Susie's arm and turned on my heel.

"In those shoes, Denise?" Susie pulled me back. "You'll be crippled before we've gone half a mile on these roads."

"I don't want to get into any more cars with unknown men after today's experience - especially ones with blacked-out rear windows."

"That's class, Denise."

"Maybe, but we should heed mum's advice."

"Lightning never strikes twice," Susie declared, and again decided for us by jumping in next to the ransom. "Come on, Denise, we'll never be closer to a million pounds. If we're lucky, some of it might rub off on us."

"We'll be safer poor, but honest, Susie," I frowned, climbing in after her.

"Cheer up, Denise." Susie patted the real leather upholstery. "It reeks of money in here. This will be a whole new experience for us."

"That's not what I'm afraid of."

"Shush, Denise, you know we have to stick together and see this through."

"Just to the bus stop, then," I conceded, "but don't say anything to annoy Mr Hammill, or we could end up in a precarious position."

"Don't worry, Denise, I swear I won't turn you over to the Border Agency," Mr Hammill laughed. "We bankers have to find our servants somewhere." He banged our door shut and, with smugness oozing from every pore, eased himself behind the wheel.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Susie," I whispered, as we glided smoothly away.

"Trust me, Denise," she grinned, and snuggled into the real leather seat. "I wonder how much third-hand BMWs go for."

"Take my advice, and marry a banker," Mr Hammill chuckled. "Then you both can have the latest model. I've done it twice already."

"I expect to manage it pretty soon by my own efforts - with a little assistance from Denise."

"My, you are ambitious."

"But I'm not," I exclaimed. "Public transport suits me fine, and there's a bus stop coming up. Slow down, please."

"I couldn't rest easy abandoning you out here. I think it's best if I drop you off at the bus station in town. How does that suit?"

"Fine," Susie agreed, "that'll be much more convenient, won't it, Denise?"

"Who for, Susie?"

"Everyone - we can fill in Mr Hammill with a few more details of what really happened. We want the police to have the full story."

"Too much knowledge can be a dangerous thing, Susie."

"Words I thought I'd never hear you say, Denise."

"I think we should let sleeping dogs lie again. The plot's been foiled, Mr Hammill's free, and the money's safe."

"For now, Denise."

"What do you mean by that?" Mr Hammill shot a nervous glance over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's still here, but I've been mulling over how two boneheads like Willy and Wally could have come up with such a sophisticated scheme."

"We shouldn't try to do the police's job, Susie," I whispered. "It isn't wise for us to speculate."

"You started it, Denise, wondering about the meticulous planning. And you haven't explained how two Scousers came by all that local knowledge about Mr Hammill's bank, and Alice and Amy."

"Not now," I hissed, "we'll discuss it later."

Susie blithely carried on. "Willy and Wally didn't have the sense God gave geese. Masterminding a plot like this would have been way beyond that pair of robbing hoodies, Denise."

"I wouldn't say so, Susie."

"I would, Denise. It's a conundrum isn't it, Mr Hammill?"

"Not, really," he coughed, "they somehow struck lucky. Our little island of prosperity is a magnet for small-time, big city crooks. Not a bank or a jeweller's is safe. Why, only on Monday ..."

"But this wasn't any old random smash and grab," Susie maintained. "There must have been someone in the know, a Mr Big, pulling their strings. What do you think, sir?"

"I have the utmost confidence in all my staff if that's what you're suggesting. It's clear to me Willy and Wally were the types to keep it in the family."

"And that's another funny thing I noticed, Denise. Can you guess what it is?"

"All too well, Susie, and we'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time again if you insist on playing Cluedo."

"There's no banker for a suspect in that, Denise, but looky there - the hairs on the back of Mr Hammill's neck are standing on end."

"Most likely it's in anticippointment of you revealing all, Susie."

"You mustn't tease me girls." Mr Hammill laughed nervously. "What's going on between you?"

"It's Denise - she always wants an answer to everything, and she's been wondering why you never showed a flicker of surprise at Willy and Wally being identical twins."

"No, I haven't, Susie."

"Then why did you give me a nudge and a meaningful look when Mr Hammill mentioned they were the types to keep it in the family?"

"You're imagining things."

"I am not, Denise."

"You certainly are, young lady," Mr Hammill reproved. "Although, I'm not sure what, exactly."

"That you already knew Willy was Wally's twin before you set eyes on him," Susie ventured.

"Of course I did," Mr Hammill spluttered. "There's nothing remarkable about that - Wally, like Willy, couldn't stop talking about himself."

"We got the impression they were as different as chalk and cheese in that respect," Susie persisted, despite my frantically tugging at her sleeve. "Taciturn is how Willy described Wally."

"Well, that's where you're wrong. I don't know what you're implying, but I've nothing to hide," Mr Hammill insisted. "I took my life in my hands trying to find out all I could from Wally. Even though I was terrified he intended to kill me, I did all in my power to frustrate his plans."

"Then why did you warn him we weren't the real Alice and Amy?"

"I didn't - it was a father's natural reaction. I'm worried sick about them."

"You've been hiding it well."

"You really are a most impertinent girl."

"And inquisitive - there's also the curious fact of why Wally left you alone in the car with the money and the key in the ignition. What does that suggest to you, Denise?"

"Mr Hammill has other things on his mind, Susie; he doesn't want to be bothered with this now."

"But he should be bothered about the whereabouts of his precious daughters, Denise. He hasn't shown the slightest interest in finding out where they are."

"Stop digging, Susie," I pleaded. "We don't want to get in any deeper. Mr Hammill's family affairs are none of our business."

"And he's never asked if we've seen them, or how we came to be wearing their clothes. What theory would neatly explain all the above facts, Denise?"

"I'd rather not say, Susie."

"Then allow me to do it for you, my dear." Mr Hammill's icy tone sent a shiver down my spine. "We don't want to disappoint snoopy little Susie, do we?"

"Your amateur sleuthing may have landed us in another fine mess, Susie."

"Too right, Denise, it sounds as if our friendly local bank manager intends to foreclose on us."

"There's no room for sentiment in modern finance, much to my regret," Mr Hammill sighed. "Although I've been doing my best to spare us all needless anxiety."

Susie threw what little caution remained to the wind. "That isn't very reassuring from a man who planned to have his own daughters kidnapped."

"Stepdaughters, actually," Mr Hammill corrected, "but otherwise, unfortunately for you, you're way ahead of me."

"A long spell in jail will be if you make things any worse," Susie warned.

"Don't concern yourself over my future, dear. I've already given the situation careful consideration, and come to the sad conclusion I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"The police won't approve of that."

"You underestimate my presentational skills," Mr Hammill snickered. "The chief constable will recommend me for his Citizen of the Year award after he's heard my story. Fellow lodge members never fail to return a favour."

"It won't work - your Alice and Amy alibi has gone by the board. They'll soon find out you were all in this together."

"Wally's dead - you saved me a distasteful job there," Mr Hammill grimaced. "I couldn't afford a two-way split, and our celebratory drink would have been his last. He would have been the first casualty of my expensive second divorce."

"Ah, Denise, it's your same old story - cherchez la femme."

"Hardly, Susie - but the police will be following the money trail, Mr Hammill."

"Up a blind alley, I'm pleased to say. Thanks to you, some unknown members of the gang have cold-bloodedly disposed of Wally and escaped with the ransom. You couldn't have been more helpful if I'd hired you," he smirked.

"You're not that clever," Susie goaded. "You've forgotten about Willy; he'll be the bluebottle in your denouement."

"Wally wasn't a sharing twin, I can assure you. Everything Willy knows is to my advantage," Mr Hammill gloated. "According to you, he's convinced he kidnapped the real Alice and Amy - and that's what he'll tell the police."

"They'll still be suspicious. They won't believe a father couldn't recognise his own daughter's voice," Susie countered. "Some stranger on the phone claiming to be Amy is a flimsy excuse for handing over a million pounds."

"I was under great stress, and I'm no man of action. I shall freely admit to being a scholar, a gentleman, and a coward."

"It won't wash," I declared. "The police always look for an insider in these cases."

"Ah, but there's an independent witness, who's above reproach, to corroborate my story. And again, I have you to thank," he snickered.

"He's bluffing, Denise."

"I don't think he is, Susie."

"And you're right, little lady. You'll be delighted to know you made an unforgettable impression on a certain Miss Whittaker. She called me, in a highly emotional state - it seems darling Alice and Amy had vanished without a trace."

"Uh-oh, Denise."

"And left their clothes and their cup behind."

"Oh dear, Susie."

"The last she saw of them, they were being chased by a strange man who had told her a preposterous story about being a detective. So who can blame me for believing the worst when Willy put you on the phone."

"Shoot, Denise."

"Don't be dismayed - you've been more diligent daughters to me than Alice and Amy ever have. If you weren't such precocious chatterboxes, I'd happily adopt you as the final solution."

"You won't be so smug when that police car, coming up behind, pulls you over," Susie retorted. "They've got your number."

"You don't think I'd be so stupid, do you?" Mr Hammill sneered. "This isn't the car we left the bank in. And, anyway, my loyal staff won't inform the police until they get the all clear from me."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Oh, but I am. I could scarcely hold back the tears begging them not to put sweet little Alice and Amy's lives at risk. My desk has been covered in their photos for the last six months."

"He's thought of everything except us, Denise."

"And you two won't prove an insoluble problem, either. An hour in the garage with the doors closed and the engine running should suffice," Mr Hammill chillingly chuckled. "You'll have time to smell the exhaust fumes after your busy day."

"It seems we've been snookered, Susie."

"Tight on the cushion behind the pink and black, Denise."

"I'm glad you're resigned to your fate; it will make things so much easier for everyone concerned."

"We're not finished yet. This dancing lark makes you super fit. Shake hands with Denise and you'll never play the organ again. Just wait until she gets you in her vice-like grip."

"A pleasure I will regrettably have to forego."

"We'll see about that," I threatened.

"If it's any comfort, my dear, under other circumstances, you would have made a beguiling interlude while I sought wife number three," he laughed. "I've learned from my mistakes, and this time I have in mind a wealthy widow who doesn't enjoy watching herself have a headache."

Susie uncharacteristically said nothing, and settled back in her seat.

"Now that he's confessed all to your satisfaction," I whispered, "we should get ready to drop your bag over his head at the next corner."

"That might be dangerous for us, Denise."

"Not compared to the alternative," I muttered.

"I assume you're plotting my downfall, but I have another little surprise for you," Mr Hammill announced, and hit a button on the dashboard. "Sleep tight - mind the bugs don't bite."

Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

The BMW's VIP security features burst into life.

"Quick, Susie, before we're caged in."

Cluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnnkkkkk!

We sprang forward, but a Berlin window had already sealed us off from the front seat.

"Too late, Jeffrey - it's deja zoo all over again."

 

Chapter 121

"We've fallen for the same trick twice in two hours, Susie," I wailed. "And this time we've only a useless Johnny 7 to save us. I hope you've deduced what we're going to do next."

"I have to admit I didn't expect this, Jeffrey." Susie gave the plastic shielding another hefty thump. "Do you think it's bullet-proof?"

"It's probably bazooka-proof, Susie, but he's not planning on shooting us. Why couldn't you hold back, instead of indulging in premature speculation?"

"I got overexcited, Jeffrey. I thought we had Hammill bang to rights, but we've possibly made a major mistake."

"Like leaving home this morning." I resigned myself to the only course open to us, and leant in front of Susie. "Sneak out the phone - we'll have to call the police. I only hope we can swap clothes before they turn up."

"It'll be easier to swap names."

"What good will that do? You don't look like a boy."

"Neither do you."

"Yes, but at least I look like Jeffrey Smith."

"Well, it's academic anyway, Denise - I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the battery's flat."

"Are you sure? Try again," I appealed.

"It's no good - Willy killed too many zombies. We'll have to rely on our own resources, Jeffrey."

"I hope we can find some, Susie, or Mr Hammill may prove to be our Dotterdammerung."

"Cheer up, Jeffrey - things are always darkest just before the dawn. Don't forget we're locked in with the money, and a million pounds should give us not inconsiderable leverage."

"This is definitely a situation where we need to bail out ourselves, and not the banker, Susie. We should act prudently and engage in some instant quantitative uneasing."

"What are we waiting for, Jeffrey?"

We pounced on the cricket bags, and two stiff zips later, a raft of twenty-pound notes lay stretched out before us.

"We've met our first million, Susie."

"And what do you think of it, Jeffrey?"

"Very fiat, sterling - it has no scrap value. Thank Mammon, Mr Hammill didn't go in for a bullion robbery."

"Come on, then, Jeffrey - let's rip it to shreds. It'll be a once in a lifetime experience."

"We'll make sure it's not a last in a lifetime one," I vowed, tearing into the first bundle. "Mr Hammill's little nest egg soon won't be worth the paper it's printed on. Go to it, Susie, and make sure he sees what we're doing."

"He already has, Jeffrey, and, from the disapproving look on his face, it's upset a banker's sensibilities. I do believe we're scuppering his plans for us."

"At any rate, we've got his interest and given him a severe case of road rage. Hang on, Susie, another swine's doing his best to flout the Highway Code."

Mr Hammill put his foot down, and the BMW went into overdrive.

"It's worked, Jeffrey - the avavicious bugger wants to get at us and the money as fast as possible."

"Now all we have to worry about, Susie, is how the robber bridegroom plans to avoid having the most expensive confetti in the world at wedding number three."

"Whooooooooooo, Jeffrey!"

"We'll wind up wrapped around a lamppost before we reach his garage, the way we're going, Susie."

"A not undesirable outcome given the circumstances, Jeffrey."

"Oh, I spoke too soon - he's slowing down. This must be his house coming up."

"Talk about location, location, location - wouldn't dad love to have that on his books."

A gentleman's residence, bathed in the glow of security lights, stood in splendid isolation on the outskirts of town.

"It's ideally placed for what he had in mind, Susie."

"But he didn't reckon on his loot ending up in bits and pieces, Jeffrey. We've really put the wind up him."

"You're right, Susie, and he's still driving like a man possessed. Here we go again!"

Mr Hammill lost control of the back end, and the BMW executed a skidding turn.

Cruuuuuuuuuunnnncchh!

"That's shattered a gatepost and his no-claims bonus, Jeffrey."

"I hope Sterling Mess is looking in his mirror, Susie." I regained my balance and threw another thousand pounds' worth of confetti into the air. "Keep on tearing - the more panicky we make him, the better."

The car swept on to the top of the driveway, where the garage doors had already swung open, greeting us with a blaze of light.

"This is it, Jeffrey - prepare for action."

The BMW screeched to a halt inside. Mr Hammill leapt out and dashed into the house.

"He's not wasting any time trying to reason with us, Susie. He obviously has some more direct action in mind."

"Have you given any thought to what we're going to do when he comes back armed and dangerous - and very annoyed?"

"I'd rather not get close up and personal, but I'm thinking along the lines of a stiletto in the eye. I only wish you'd had the good sense to buy your uncle an umbrella."

"We won't need one, Jeffrey, and you can keep your precious shoes on."

"Have you a better idea?"

"Heaps," Susie grinned.

"Well, what is it?"

"Susie's got an Uzi!" she whooped, plucking the pistol out of her bag and brandishing it in the air.

"Wherep did you get that?" I gasped.

"I snaffled it when you were looking for Wally's mortal remains."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I spluttered.

"I know you. You'd want to be one of those detectives who never carries a gun, and insists on bantering the opposition into submission."

"It is a more civilised approach, Susie."

"Not if you get bopped on the bonce every week, Jeffrey. Sometimes, you need an equaliser." Susie kissed the pistol. "And this is ours."

"No wonder you weren't worried about getting in his car and playing Columbo."

"You should have told me."

"You should have guessed, Jeffrey - as if I'd put us in deadly danger."

"We're not out of the garage yet, Susie. He'll probably come back toting a bigger gun than yours. Have you thought of that?"

"We won't be having a measure, Jeffrey. As soon as he opens the door, it'll be pop, pop, pop, and I'll put daddy out of our misery."

I quailed at the thought. "Perhaps we should give him a chance to surrender, Susie. He might only be bringing a carving knife to a gunfight."

"He'll have to drop his weapon and put up his hands instantly, otherwise it's good-night, Bangkok. We're taking no chances, Jeffrey."

"But he's taking his time." I strained my ears listening for Mr Hammill's return. "What's he doing in there? I hope he hasn't got an even nastier surprise in store for us."

"He may be steadying his nerves with a small tincture. He looked the type who'd need some Dutch courage for what he's about to do."

"Then keep on tearing, Susie, and let's hope it gives him the didders when he sees his dreams of avarice being reduced to smithereens."

"At the rate we're going, there won't be enough left for our cut. What do you think is a fair reward, Jeffrey?"

"The EUSSR wants a 0.1% transaction tax to curb irresponsible bankers, Susie."

"Then as good Eutopians, Jeffrey, we'll put a thousand in my bag. We don't want to be thought little Englanders."

"And then there's the finder's fee - insurance companies pay up to 25%."

"Let's not be greedy, Jeffrey - we'll add in another thousand for expenses. They'll never miss it - nobody's going to bother putting all these bits together again."

We'd demolished another ten bundles before we heard the sound of running footsteps.

I scooped the pile of shredded twenties into the air. "Make a snowstorm of his money, Susie," I cried, as Mr Hammill dashed back into the garage. "And let's hope it clouds his judgement."

"He won't need much judgement, Jeffrey - he's carrying a double-barrelled shotgun."

"You have my permission to shoot him dead between the eyes, Susie."

"I'll show the fiend no mercy, Jeffrey."

"Stop that!" a furious Mr Hammill screamed, cradling the gun in his arm, and flinging open the car door.

"Let him have it, Susie."

"Do you feel lucky, punk?"

"Noooooooooo!" Our would be assassin reeled back, throwing up his hands to protect his face, and letting the shotgun clatter onto the floor.

"Change of plan, Susie - disable him."

"I'll double kneecap him, Denise."

Click ... Click ... Click.

"Oh bugger!"

"Now it's my turn!" Mr Hammill regained his courage, and lunged forward to retrieve his weapon.

"Out of the way, Susie!"

"Quick, Jeffrey, it's heel in the eye time!"

A shower of confetti in his face and Susie's total belief in the presence of a Jeffrey halted Mr Hammill in his tracks. "Grab the gun, Susie!" I yelled, launching myself out of the door.

"Oooooffff!" Mr Hammill fell backwards, as I buried my head in his ample midriff.

"Knee him in the nadgers!" Susie shouted, when we hit the ground.

"Get off! I'm not in the mood for girls on top," Hammill snarled, and rolled us over.

"Do something, Susie! He's squashing Pinky and Perky."

"Arch your back, Denise - you've got his gun up your bum."

"I can't. Don't stand on ceremony, Susie - kick him up the arse!"

"Aaaaaarrrrggghhh!"

"Ooooowwwwwww! I've crocked my toe on his coccyx. This is the last time I wear pumps."

"Never mind that - twist his leg off!"

"Uuuuhhhh! Uuuuhhhh! Why do we have to keep coming up against such super heavyweights?" Susie moaned. "Aren't there any skinny bugger villains?"

"Oooooooooowwww!" Mr Hammill yelped in pain as he did the involuntary splits.

"Keep yanking, Susie. I can see daylight."

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipppppppppp!

"So can I, Denise."

I left some flounces behind, but managed to slither out from underneath and kick the gun away. "It's all yours, Susie."

"Get clear, Denise." Susie let go of Hammill's leg, snatched up the shotgun, and levelled it at him.

"Well done, Susie." I sprang to her side ,and we waited for Mr Hammill's next move.

He grasped the car door and struggled to his feet. "I'll take that," he grunted, and staggered forward.

"Get back, or I'll blow you away." Susie threatened.

Mr Hammill kept on coming. "I don't think you will."

"You're asking for it."

"Go on, pull the trigger," he smirked, arming himself with a chain whip from off the wall. "Let's see who's the last man standing."

"He's mad, Susie," I gulped, as he advanced on us, whirling the chain before him.

"It's self-defence, Denise." Susie shut her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Click ... Click ... Click.

"Double bugger!"

"You lose," Hammill cackled. "Happiness is a replica gun."

"Run, Susie!"

"You're going nowhere." Hammill flicked a switch, and the garage doors slammed shut.

Susie changed ends and grabbed the gun barrel. "Watch out, Denise - I'm going to knock his bloody block off."

Mr Hammill met Susie's swing with his own. "Gotcha!" he exulted, wrapping the chain around the stock, and yanking the weapon out of her hand. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Let's double-team him, Denise."

"After me, Susie." I snatched up a spare piece of 4x2, and we both grabbed on to it.

"Charge!" Susie hollered.

"Dodge this if you can."

Whoooooooooooooffffffffffftt! Our battering ram crumpled into dust, as Hammill took it full in the solar plexus.

"Is that the best you can do?" he laughed.

"It's those damn woodworm again, Susie."

"It's time for plan B, Denise. What else can we hit him with?"

"Not a lot, Susie - it's a good job the police are on their way."

"Too bad for you - I'm calling your bluff." Mr Hammill, wild-eyed and with a rictus grin, jerked crazily towards us.

"If you carry on like this, we're all going to regret it," Susie forecast. "Murder in haste, repent at leisure."

"Don't worry, yours is the easy part. You've only to die - I've got to kill you."

"Stand clear, Susie - I'll have to jujitsu him."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

"I don't think we'll need to, Jeffrey. Look - he's having a fit."

"Uuuuurrrrggghhhhh!" Mr Hammill arched his back and reached for the sky.

"And the bigger the better," I exclaimed, as a demented puppet master took control of our would be executioner.

"What's happening to me!" Hammill's eyes rolled up, and he did a pirouette, three tour jetes, an arabesque, and finally a swan dive into the concrete. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrggh!" he screamed, and continued his performance by writhing at our feet for an encore.

"That's some break dancing, Jeffrey."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggghhh!"

"And what a climax." I held Susie's hand, as Mr Hammill screeched goodbye in a last mighty convulsion.

"Bloody hell, Jeffrey, that gave me a fright. I thought the banshees had arrived."

"Something took him unexpectedly, Susie."

"And left his body as stiff as a board, Jeffrey."

Mr Hammill lay wide-eyed and rigid on the garage floor.

"What do you make of it, Susie?"

"Woodworm or not, we must have belly-butted him to death with that post, Jeffrey."

"No, we didn't - it never even made a dent in his corporation."

"A delayed reaction from your torpedoing him, then - that's what it was. Your high-speed impact must have burst his aorta."

"It can't have done - he's gone a lovely pink colour."

"Pink or not, he's another dead un, Jeffrey. You should be all too familiar with the signs by now."

"Check him out - you've got the certificate."

Susie took a mirror from her bag and held it over Mr Hammill's mouth. "It's fog-free - he's not breathing," she solemnly announced. "Another rogue male has bitten the dust and gone to the great knacker's yard in the sky."

"A squire, a policeman, and now a bank manager - it's hard to know who you can put your trust in nowadays."

"Too true," Susie nodded sadly. "And our latest victim wasn't only a pillar of society, he was the father of a pair of delightful ballroom dancers."

"And the owner of a pair of cricket bags. He's disgraced his MCC tie."

"What an absolute cad, Jeffrey. Play the gentleman, Denise, and restore my faith in human nature."

I helped Susie up, and together we contemplated the corpse. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was an escapee from Madame Tussaud's on the Golden Mile."

"He looks healthier dead than alive. Uncle Frank, at his finest, never buried a beloved one as rosy-cheeked as this. You have to hand it to us, Jeffrey - we don't do things by halves."

"I don't think we did it even by a quarter, Susie."

"I suppose he might have had a heart attack or a stroke. The bugger must have been under a lot of stress. It smelt as if he'd downed a whisky or two before his command performance."

"He is positively glowing. I wonder if that was his poison."

"Poison? Now you're entering the realms of fantasy, Jeffrey."

"He appears unnaturally dead - you said so yourself."

"But if he was poisoned, who dunnit?" A gleam came into Susie's eyes. "Hey, maybe we've a real murder mystery on our hands."

"Or he drunk out of the wrong glass by mistake. Remember what he said about getting rid of Wally."

A wave of disappointment swept across Susie's face. "But ..."

"No 'buts' - it's nothing to do with us, and we've no time for more speculation. You'll have to content yourself with reading Steve Spooner's official account of it in tomorrow's paper."

"After all the effort we've put in, it'd be a cop-out calling the cops."

"We're not calling anyone; they can work it out for themselves. It shouldn't be too difficult - a deceased bank manager, a shotgun, and a million pounds in the back of his car."

"But, yet again, only we know the true story, Jeffrey."

"And a good thing too - we don't want dead men telling tales."

"They do on CSI."

"Well, our two won't be mentioning Susie and Jeffrey, and that's all what matters."

"But it's so frustrating, being unsung heroes. If Noddy had gone around with you, instead of Big Ears, he'd never have got his car."

"You'll just have to save our misadventures for your roman a clef, Susie. Now can we get out of here tout de suite?"

"Hold your high heels. We can't walk the streets in these clothes - they're in tatters. Let's swap them for some more of Alice's and Amy's clobber."

"You won't give up, will you? You're just looking for an excuse to snoop around the house."

"Only after we make ourselves respectable. One careless movement, and you'll be flashing Pinky and Perky again."

The sight of the boys rampant gave me pause for thought. "But what if there's someone in?"

"There can't be - he'd have never risked coming back here if there were. And he planned on taking at least an hour to get rid of us."

"I suppose so, Susie - but we'll have to be super careful."

"Aren't we always, Jeffrey?"

"Not so you'd notice, Susie."

 

Chapter 122

"It's as quiet as the grave, Jeffrey."

"The less said about that, the better, Susie."

We'd stolen out of the garage and padded the length of the Hammill's luxury kitchen, before pausing to listen at the interior door.

"Not a creature is stirring - not even a mouse. Can you hear anything, Jeffrey?"

"No - but we should still peep before we sneak. Have a surreptitious glance into the next room."

Susie eased open the door and peered through the gap. "It's all clear, Jeffrey, and the stairs are at the far end. Let's go."

I tiptoed after Susie, as she strode across the lounge. "Just a change of clothes, and no messing about looking for imaginary clues," I reminded her. "Alice and Amy could arrive home at any minute."

"No chance, Jeffrey, they'll be staying with their mother."

"Who lives here."

"She'll have moved out; they are getting a divorce, don't forget."

"We can't be sure, Susie; the wife usually bags the family home."

"Not this one - Mr Hammill probably made her sign a prenuptial agreement."

"Maybe he was overgenerous, or she has the more expensive lawyer. Something drove him to rob his own bank."

"Hurry up, then, if you're so worried. Come on - two steps at a time."

"Not so fast - you don't know what's waiting for us at the top of the stairs."

"Fashion heaven if the rest of the house is anything to go by."

"Or a mad woman with a big knife."

"Don't be silly, Jeffrey. We've had our quota of unwelcome surprises for today. Follow me."

Susie took off, and I tried to keep up with her, in what had become perilously wonky high heels.

"Stop, look, and listen," I cautioned, as she leapt onto the landing.

Susie may have looked and listened, but she didn't stop. She raced on and flung open the first available door. "In here, Jeffrey," she exulted, "we've hit the jackpot."

I tripped after her, and waded through a shin-swallowing carpet into the middle of the palatial bedroom. "If it weren't for the posters, Susie, I'd think we'd stumbled into Daddy Bear's den."

"Not with these cuddly toys and little girly stuff scattered everywhere."

"That's only circumstantial evidence, Susie. All sorts of bizarre behaviour goes on behind closed doors."

"I don't know where you get your ideas from, Jeffrey."

"You, Susie - and that," I gawped, pointing up at the giant ceiling mirror. "It's an unusual extra for a teenage girl's room."

"That must be where the Mrs Hammills watched themselves having headaches, Jeffrey. Somehow, Alice and Amy have usurped the master bedchamber. I deduce they must be a pair of proper little madams."

"Step-daughters, or not, Susie, it seems they ruled the roost around here. They're not going to take kindly to someone breaking in and pinching their clothes."

"The little darlings won't know a thing about it, Jeffrey. We'll rescue a couple of castaways from the back of the wardrobe, and they'll never be missed."

"I hope you're right, Susie."

"I am, Jeffrey. Believe me, these are the kind of girls who'll wear a dress once, and then consign it to the inner depths, ne'er to be frou-froued in again."

"That sort of stuff doesn't sound very suitable - I hope there's a more practical option available."

"We'll soon find out." Susie slid open the wardrobe doors. "Ooooo - what did I tell you - it's a walk-in one full of ball gowns. Fight your way through these underskirts, Jeffrey; it'll be a dream come true for you."

"We've no time to play dress-up, Susie. Find some street clothes - and fast. Where are their jeans and anoraks?"

"They may be thin on the ground, Jeffrey; this is the abode of true My Little Pony girls."

"There must be a coat or a mac - even if it's pink. Try the other wardrobe."

Susie bounced across the bed and disappeared into closet number two. "Ah, my suspicions are confirmed - riding hats and jodhpurs."

"I'm not wearing those - and neither are you. They're pants-squared pants. Is there nothing else?"

"It's as I said, Jeffrey, they've moved out with their mother and taken their everyday stuff with them."

"All I need is a fluffy jumper to cover up with."

"Ah, here's a possibility, tucked away at the back - a pair of school uniforms."

"They'll have to do."

"Are you sure? I know how fussy you are."

"Yes ... Hey, wait a minute, they haven't outgrown them, have they? I don't want to be showing off all my washing."

"No worries, Jeffrey - they're our size."

"So why have they been left behind - what's wrong with them?"

"Nothing - they were obviously only worn by Alice and Amy on special occasions."

"What sort of special occasions?" I asked apprehensively.

"Exchange trips."

"Where to, Susie?"

"Japan."

"No, Susie - I'm not indulging your YouTube fantasies."

"You promised, Jeffrey."

"Yes, but at a more fitting time."

"It's too late - I'm already changing. Here's yours." Susie tossed a froth of pink and white silk and satin out of the door. "And all the accessories to go with it."

"You must be joking, Susie," I protested, dodging a flying shoe. "This is ten times worse than the cheerleader stuff."

"No, it's not - we'll be almost totally covered up. Quit fussing, and get into it."

"Just a minute." I held out the frock in front of me. "Are you sure this is a school uniform? It looks more like an anime costume."

"A schoolgirl maid Lolita waitress that's what you'll be. All the boys are wearing them in Japan."

"We're not in Japan."

"Cosplay's spreading like wildfire - nobody will give you a seventh glance if you bow and say 'Sukiyaki', you little Lancashire hotpot, you."

"Have another look," I pleaded. "There must be a less eye-catching ensemble."

"The cupboard is bare, Jeffrey. Get it on - it matches mine. We'll be Japanese twins; that should put an extra wiggle into your step."

"Well, all right," I grudgingly agreed, "but I'm not wearing the frilly cap. The shoes and stockings, yes, and maybe the gloves - I want everything to match - but not the cap."

"And here's the bra and panties - they'll cheer you up even more. Catch!"

I caught and fondled. "They must be advanced 14-year olds; this is Victoria's Closet stuff."

"Are you complaining?"

"No." I already had Pinky and Perky straining comfortably in their new home. "Everything's hunky-dory." I rolled on the stockings and hesitated. "I'm happy to see the back of the fishnet tights, Susie, but do I have to wear the garters?"

"Yes, unless you're happy to parade around with your hands up your bum."

I pulled them on, and hesitated again. "I'm sure this costume isn't suitable for a 14-year old girl to walk the streets in, Susie."

"It's a party thing, Jeffrey."

"But we're not going to a party - we're going home."

"Who's to know? Just take a deep breath, and hurry up. Don't pretend you can't wait to see yourself in it."

"Okay, Susie, but it's under a token protest, and you have to do your fair share of the housework if mum takes advantage of my predicament."

"It's not a predicament, Jeffrey - it's an opportunity."

I sighed, jiggled my way into the dress, and struggled with the zip, until it took me by surprise and suddenly snapped home.

"Ooooohhhh!"

"What's the matter, Jeffrey?"

"Nothing, Susie, but I think I'm locked in lace. I may need your help to get out of these trappings."

"That's what I like to hear, Jeffrey. I bet you look truly scrumptious, don't you?"

"I'm trying my best." I slipped on the high heels and skittered over to the dressing table mirror. "Maybe the Japanese boys have got it right," I murmured, and decided to show solidarity with them by doing the costume justice. Sixty seconds later, I pouted my glossy pink lips and fluttered my mascara coated eyelashes. "Who's that girl," I breathed, throwing myself a kiss.

"I'm peeking," Susie laughed. "And I've caught Jeffrey falling in love with Denise again."

I turned around to see Susie wearing a schoolboy's uniform. "Where did you get that?" I spluttered.

"Ooooo, Lolita has given herself the full works!"

"Don't change the subject," I blushed. "I thought you said your outfit matched mine."

"It does - it's the Principal Boy equivalent. You'll have to brush up on your Cosplay culture, Jeffrey."

"The only school this get-up's fit for is a school for scandal. I'm even showing some cleavage; that can't be right. The headmaster would send me to his study if I turned up at our place dressed like this."

"He very well might, Jeffrey."

"And I'd have to stand in the corner. The Japanese would never allow it, either - whatever you've seen on YouTube."

"They have a more liberal outlook over there," Susie grinned. "And they're into feet as erogenous zones. Showing off your Pinkies and Perkies means nothing to the Japanese - they enjoy mixed nude saunas together."

"Are you sure you aren't confusing them with the Swedes? It's an easy mistake to make. There's definitely something of the naughty au pair girl about this costume."

"Stop complaining, Jeffrey, folk will just think we're going to a fancy-dress ball."

"I feel as if I've been at one for the last two weeks," I pouted.

"And you've enjoyed every minute of it."

"But now's the time to be more incognito. Can't we see if there isn't a less suggestive alternative?"

"We've no time to play Goldilocks here; you'll have to wait until we get home. Now, be an obedient little maid, and curtsey, so we can complete the picture."

I bobbed, and Susie fixed the satin headdress to my hair. "I now pronounce Denise the teacher's pet - ain't she sweet?"

Topped off with the ribboned tiara, I had another lingering stare in the mirror. "So much so, she's even more nervous about walking down the street. I don't want to look too rakish - are you sure it's on straight?"

"Yes, and so are your seams. I see you had the foresight to carefully arrange things so you reveal a flash of garter."

"Only because I decided it's better to go home half-cute, dressed like this, than half-naked in that dance outfit."

"I believe you, Denise, and there'll be no half-cute about it when I add the finishing touch. I've a special surprise for you."

"I don't want a matching teddy bear."

"It's better than that," Susie grinned, reaching back into the wardrobe. "Something you've been going on about since you lost the protection of a trusted friend."

"Ah, a golfing umbrella."

"No, a pink parasol!" Susie whipped it out and thrust it into my hands. "There you go - Denise is ready to wiggle on the wild side."

"Carrying this frillppery won't deter an attacker," I protested. "It's more likely to encourage one."

"It's got a sharp point, and nobody will suspect what a deadly weapon you're not concealing. You can entice them in close, before delivering the coup de parapluie."

I tested it out with an exploratory thrust. "I suppose this is better than nothing," I allowed, running my hand over the shiny pink satin. "And it does feel kind of reassuring."

"Put it up, and practice a few flirtatious moves."

"Isn't opening an umbrella inside the house supposed to be unlucky?"

"Your scientific mind doesn't believe in that. And anyway it's a sunshade, so it doesn't count. Go on, you know you want to give it a twirl."

"I suppose it won't do any harm to have a practice ." I raised the parasol, and spinning it in my lace-gloved hands, minced back and forth in front of the mirror. "Ooooooooo, Susie! I can't help myself - I want to pretend I'm on YouTube."

"Then sing and dance, Denise-chan."

"Another dream come true, Denise," Susie laughed, as I shamelessly flirted with her.

"This is completely foreign to me, Susie; the notion of being dolled up as a pretty Japanese Lolita has never crossed my mind."

We fell into each other's arms, and onto the bed.

"It's snogging time again, Denise."

Kiiiiiiiiiiiissssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Smoooooooooooooooooocccccchhhhh.

"Ooooooooo, Susie, I can see myself lying back and thinking of Poundland."

Kiiiiiiiiiiiissssssss...

"Hey, what are you doing in our bedroom?"

"And why is she wearing my dress, Amy?"

"The other one's wearing my suit, Alice."

"And who's been bouncing on my bed?"

"Don't turn around, but look who's behind you, Susie."

"Oh, more double trouble, Denise."

"Now we're for it," I wailed, as we hastily disengaged. "Yet another little local difficulty, you've got us into, Susie. Say something inspirational - and say it quick."

 

Chapter 123

"Ah, just the girls everyone's been looking for, Denise."

"But what an embarrassing time and place to find them, Susie."

"Pull up your garter, Denise."

"Straighten your tie, Susie."

We rearranged ourselves under the stern gaze of another couple sharing our penchant for principal boy-and-girlery.

"We've caught you in the act."

"You've stolen our clothes," they accused.

"Purloaned them," Susie smiled. "We had to fill in for you at short notice - and a damn fine job we made of it."

"Look, Amy, those are our dance costumes, and my top's torn in half."

"And they've split my jacket."

"Sorry about that," Susie apologised, "but just be thankful you weren't wearing them at the time. We took the rips for you."

"What does she mean, Amy?"

"I don't know, but they've ruined my shoes as well."

"And mine," Alice fumed. "And now Lolita, here, has had the cheek to pinch my favourite pink stilettos as well as my girliest dress."

"And she's been at our make-up."

"It was all in a good cause," I excused. "We two-stepped in for you when some seriously unpleasant villains had deadly designs on the Hammill twins."

"They know who we are, Amy."

"We're at a disadvantage, Alice. I think they should tell us their names, don't you?"

"Susie and Denise - at your service," Susie bowed.

"And especially Lolita-chan," I curtsied. "Can I get you a cuppa?"

"Be serious, Denise - we've already dished out a big favour, and they should be bloody grateful."

"Oh, really?" The twins raised their eyebrows in unison.

"Yes, and we deserve the pick of your wardrobe for intercepting the bucketful of shite that was coming your way."

"How could anyone mistake those two for us, Amy? They're not very posh, are they?" Alice sniffed.

"They have the looks," Amy generously allowed. "But as soon as they opened their mouths, the game would be well and truly up."

"We let our feet do the talking," Susie beamed. "And we didn't disgrace you - Saint Vitus himself would have been proud of your performance."

"And we won you a cup and a host of new admirers," I smiled. "The least you owe us is a change of clothes in our hour of need."

"A pretty good bargain for folk who got big match nerves and did a disappearing act," Susie declared.

"We had our reasons." Amy exchanged glances with Alice, before continuing in a more conciliatory tone. "Make yourselves comfortable." She indicated the nearest bed. "I think we need to have a serious talk."

"Okay," Susie agreed, "but let's not take too long about it. You may soon be playing host to more unexpected guests."

We settled down opposite them and waited, while they whispered to each other.

"Hurry up, won't you," I urged. "We have to go home to our pobbies. Mum will be getting worried; I'm not supposed to stay out this late."

They ended their private confab and Amy looked across at me. "If what you say is true, it's a wonder you're still around to go home to mother."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Because it's a miracle our understudies are in such rude good health."

"Ah!" Susie exclaimed. "I deduce you hot-footed it from the Tower when you discovered you were in danger of being kidnapped."

"Let them tell it," I advised. "We'll learn more by listening."

"That's exactly what we did," Alice snickered. "Eavesdropping on step-daddy and reading his emails has always been a rewarding hobby. It opened mum's eyes to his little indiscretions."

"And ours to the depths he finally sunk to," Amy huffed. "Planning to use mother's little princesses as his pawns - the cheek of the beast."

"So you know he planned the whole bank robbery thing," Susie prompted.

"Every last detail," Amy smirked. "And before we go any further, what about the hired help- is there any danger of them turning up here?"

"You don't have to worry about Willy and Wally; they won't be bothering you ever again," I assured.

"They were unreliable allies," Susie added, "and went missing in action at the first sign of trouble."

"So if they're not to be our unexpected guests - who are?"

"The police - and they're not so much unexpected as unwelcome," I explained.

"Not unwelcome to us," Amy grinned.

"Speak for yourself," I frowned. "Our kidnappers aren't the only ones to have gone missing in action. A million pounds has, and so has your step-father. You're not overfond of him, I hope."

"How did you guess?" they laughed, in unidaughter.

"It wasn't too difficult. But what we haven't guessed," Susie puzzled, "is why, knowing what you do, you risked coming back here."

"To welcome daddy dearest home after a hard day at the office, of course. We expected to find him taking a well-earned rest in his study, but he's not there. The swine's disappointed us yet again," Amy snorted.

"It'd be awful if anything's happened to him," Alice giggled.

"I think we may have some more good news to impart," I intimated. "Break it to them gently, Susie."

"Your worries as to daddy's whereabouts are over. His loyalty to the bank knew no bounds, and he insisted on bringing us and the money here for safe keeping."

"But where is he now?" Alice asked anxiously.

"We left him lying low in the garage," I began.

"How low?" Amy interrupted.

"Flat out - we had a heated argument about your dad's future plans for us, and after the dust had settled, he was somewhat the worse for wear," I confessed.

"He's still looking in the pink, but out of this world," Susie continued.

"How far out of this world?" Alice enquired.

"Who knows? But it's a one-way trip, and he won't be coming back, if you get my drift," Susie winked.

"Unfortunately for him, our actions had to speak louder than words, and he suffered the fatal consequences," I concluded.

"You mean you've killed our dad," they chorused.

"Not exactly," I hedged. "We were there when he had a funny turn. The strain of trying to dispatch us must have been too much for him. Susie's got a certificate, and she says he could have gone at any time."

"But you helped daddy on his way."

"We may have punched his ticket," I conceded.

"And his ticker," Susie admitted. "But we're not ones to take all the credit, even though it does mean your mum won't have to go through the trauma of a messy divorce. She'll cop for the lot - no questions asked."

"So daddy's definitely dead."

"As a coffin nail," Susie confirmed.

"It was him or us - and if it hadn't been us, it would have been you," I reminded them.

"Don't worry, " Alice smiled. "We're on your side, and we don't care what happened to our loving step-father. It serves the swine right for planning to have us kidnapped for his own nefarious purposes."

"We're glad to be rid of him," Amy glared. "He thought we were as gullible as mum, but we were too clever for the lech, weren't we, Alice?"

"Thanks to our spying through keyholes as well as our eavesdropping."

"You don't say - and what was it the maid saw?" I smiled.

"Nothing," Alice laughed, "I only wear that dress when we're having fun together."

"But I caught him messing with the whisky decanter," Amy divulged.

"The plot thickens, Susie."

"You could stand a spoon in it, Denise."

"That's what step-daddy did - after sprinkling in some crystals," Amy revealed. "He stirred and stirred away until it had all dissolved, and then poured it into his hip-flask."

"We knew he was up to no good, so we decided to empty the rest of the stuff into his own private stock," Alice disclosed.

"How were we to know what it was?" Amy asked, wide-eyed.

"I think we do, Susie."

"I told you so, Denise - he exhibited the classic symptoms of alkaloid poisoning."

"And we set up his liquidation!" The twins bounced on the bed in glee. "That'll teach the creepy old bugger who's boss around here."

"Well, now we know who dunnit, Susie. It was Alice and Amy, in the study, with the strychnine."

"And they've the perfect alibi, Denise. Mr Hammill robbed his own bank, and then full of remorse, when the scheme collapsed about his ears, he committed suicide after destroying the root of his evil in a final act of madness."

"All of it?" Alice stopped giggling.

"He'd better not have," Amy scowled. "The least he could do is leave us a small bequest, after we've put ourselves out to discover his body."

"Actually, we shredded it," I confessed. "It was the only way to get him to open the car door. He planned to leave the engine running and suffocate us."

"The same here - daddy intended to dispose of us by tying us up in sex," Alice quivered.

"We had a close call there, Susie."

"Even I didn't think he was that depraved, Denise."

"We heard him discussing it on the phone, didn't we, Amy?"

"Yes, and that's when we resolved to show the brute no mercy. 'Tie them up in sex, and drown them like kittens for all I care' - that's what he said."

"Ah, sacks - what potatoes come in."

"That's right, sex. They really do talk funny, don't they, Alice?"

"I can understand them well enough, Amy - ask about the money."

"There's still plenty left," Susie reassured them. "Snaffle a thousand or two for yourselves. If anyone tries to balance the books, they'll just think it was lost in transit."

"Then we'll help ourselves to five thousand each before we call the police - okay, Alice?"

"It's what daddy would have wanted, Amy," she giggled.

"Are you sure you can carry off being the distraught daughters?" I questioned. "You'll need to look a bit more upset - a lot more, in fact."

"Don't worry, Alice can turn on the tears at will, and I'll make a big show of comforting her. She likes that even when we're not cosplaying."

"I cry a lot when Amy tickles me," Alice laughed.

"Try as I might, Denise refuses to give in and be ticklish," Susie grinned, and gave me a kiss. "But I have high hopes your dress may bring out the little girl in her."

"I knew it," Alice snickered, "you're sisters-in-arms, exactly like us, aren't you?"

"Sort of," I blushed. "We are pretty smitten with each other."

Susie hugged me to her. "No two people have ever been so smut in love."

"Shush, Susie - what will they think."

"Don't be shy, Denise." Amy kissed Alice full on the mouth. "We're kindred spirits - lesbian twins of evil."

"There's a lot of it about," I murmured.

"You like Susie wearing the trousers, don't you, Denise?" Alice twinkled.

"Yes, it suits her to have me in the dresses."

"It's the same with Amy," Alice chuckled. "But it's best being the girly girl, isn't it?"

"Fess up, Denise, you'd try on every frock in the place if we had the time." Susie teased.

"I'm more than happy with this one, Susie. I just hope mum approves when we get home - if we ever get there," I hinted. "Don't you think we should be on our way?"

"Denise is right - it's time we disappeared before the police arrive. It's best if you forget all about us being here. It'll only complicate matters. Keep it simple, and slyly incriminate your dad."

"We'll pile it on thick about his strange behaviour, won't we, Amy?"

"The tales we could tell, Alice."

"Don't overdo it - or the wailing," Susie cautioned. "The police can be suspicious buggers."

"Show a bit of stiff upper lippery," I advised. "Work in - 'Death may be the greatest of all human blessings' - while bravely wiping a small tear from your eye."

"Have you done this sort of thing before?" Amy queried.

"Not so anyone would notice," Susie grinned. "And we want it to stay that way. That's why we're always changing clothes."

"You can keep them with our blessing," Amy smiled.

"You fill out my dress better, anyway, Denise," Alice tittered. "I wish I looked fit to burst in it."

"Don't be jealous it's mostly puppy fat." I modestly lowered my eyes and looked down at my maidenly chest.

"Come on, Denise, don't get lost in admiration for Pinky and Perky. Fix your make-up, and we'll be on our way. Two sets of 'Alice and Amy' would only confuse PC Plod."

I had a quick session at the mirror, Susie retrieved her bag, and we were ready for off.

"We'll wait ten minutes before we call the police," Amy promised. "And we won't mention a word about what's gone on. It'll all be a horrible shock to us."

"Here, you are, Denise - take Tubby with you as well as the parasol," Alice offered. "He goes with the dress."

"Thanks." I graciously accepted the Care Bear, and smilingly hugged it to Pinky and Perky. "Say hello to your new buddy, boys."

"Naughty teddy!" Susie smacked Tubby's bottom. "And your immodesty deserves a double helping, Denise."

"Oooooo, do it again," I yelped, as we skipped happily out onto the landing and back down the stairs, leaving Alice and Amy to their own sisterly devices.

 

Chapter 124

"Mighty monkey, Jeffrey, that was a turn up for the book," Susie whistled, as we made our way back down the drive.

"Patricidal, money-grabbing, lesbian twins - who'd have thought it?"

"Pretty poisoners - what a twist in our tale."

"Thank God I was the one wearing the maid's uniform, Susie. If they'd offered to serve us tea and crumpets, it could have been highly embarrassing. I wouldn't have known where to put myself."

"Proper little madams - isn't that what I said, before we'd even set eyes on them, Jeffrey?"

"A Holmesian piece of deduction on your part, Susie, but I'm still shocked."

"It takes all sorts, Jeffrey. And luckily for us, they were also a pair of peeping queens."

"The younger generation, Susie. I don't know what the world's coming to."

"Oh, that they had our moral integrity, Jeffrey."

"Oh, that we could find a taxi, Susie."

"It's a pity we had to leave the BMW in the garage, Jeffrey. I was itching to give it a test run."

"Change the tune, Jeffrey."

"Enough, Jeffrey - you don't have to keep on reminding me. Especially when I've just passed up the chance of expressing my bucket-seated admiration for German engineering - you can't beat it."

"I've a pair of Bosch hedge clippers, Susie - you can give them a run out any time you like," I smiled.

"Thank you, Jeffrey - I know how precious the denizens of your shed are to you."

"You're welcome, Susie, but the truth is I don't feel very mechanically minded at the moment." I emphasised the point by clicking my high heels and swaying my hips in true Lolita fashion, as I strutted on ahead, fondling a parasol, a teddy bear, and a Johnny 7 gun.

"Oh, that's so precious, Denise."

"And it's all yours to play with, Susie."

"The moon gleamed silver on the mill there," Susie mused, as she happily kicked a path through the leaves on our way into the town centre. "Only one more to go now, Jeffrey ... let's see ..."

"The sun shone orange on the doringe," I offered, two street lights later.

"I've never heard of a doringe, Jeffrey."

"You must have, Susie - they squeak, and you're always within ten feet of one at home."

"Don't tell me it's what your granddad calls a rat in dialect speak."

"No, it's what he calls a door hinge ... Oooowww!"

"You deserved that, Jeffrey."

"I know, Susie. And I'd be turning the other cheek if I didn't have to concentrate on how we're going to explain turning up late and turning Japanese to mum."

"First off, Jeffrey, you'd better call her. Say we've had a double puncture and we're walking home."

"You do it, Susie - you're better on the phone. I want to curtsey and flutter my eyelashes at mum before she cross-questions me. I'm hoping she'll find Denise innocence personified."

"Go for it, Jeffrey - you look as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. You're unbelievably cute in that outfit."

"I'll have to be careful, Susie; mum isn't too familiar with the finer points of Cosplay. She could think I've developed a sudden yen for dusting and vacuuming."

"It wouldn't do you any harm, Jeffrey."

"When did you last drive a Hoover, Susie?"

"I supervised Mikey tidying up his bedroom. There's more to it than just mindless pushing and shoving."

"I wish you'd give such careful thought to your other enterprises, Susie."

"You mean like jumping into Hammill's car when he was my number one suspect."

"You took a big risk there, Susie - for both of us."

"We couldn't let him get away with it, Jeffrey. You knew what I was going to do when you got in after me."

"That's why I went along with you, Susie."

"I know, Jeffrey."

"It was still a mad thing to do."

"It was the only thing to do; I had to confirm my suspicions."

"And when you got us trapped, the phone wasn't out of action, was it, Susie?"

"I knew you wouldn't want to call the police if we had an alternative, Jeffrey. My number one priority is preserving your secret identity, regardless of personal safety."

"Even, so, there's a fine line between where character ends and foolhardiness begins, Susie."

"How very true, Jeffrey. You've a wise old head on young shoulders; that could be mum speaking."

"Well, I hope someone, not a million miles from here, takes note."

"So do I, Jeffrey, but dad's a stubborn beggar when it comes to his rugbying."

"You'll never learn, Susie. Ring mum, and give her the benefit of your insouciance."

"I subtlety worked in that we'd joined the Cosplay Club at school, Jeffrey."

"I heard, Susie."

"Then why aren't you congratulating me on providing such an elegant explanation for our outfits?"

"We haven't been to school, for one thing."

"A minor detail."

"And it doesn't exist."

"It does now - we're the founder members."

"Mum will never believe it."

"Don't worry, it'll be okay - your mum knows of my love for all things Japanese."

"I should make you eat raw fish, Susie."

"Shush, Jeffrey."

"No, sushi, Susie."

"Fourth time lucky with the taxis, Jeffrey."

"And it was good of him to pick up my bike, Susie," I smiled, as we strolled the last half mile home.

"All thanks to my advice, Jeffrey - getting Tubby the Teddy to put in the request melted his cabby heart."

"It was a trifle embarrassing, but it's one less thing to explain to mum. She knows I'd never willingly abandon James the red bike."

"You're a sentimental fool, Jeffrey."

"No, I'm not, Susie, and to prove it, I'm putting my foot down. We're having a quiet long weekend in, counting our money."

"I don't know about that, Jeffrey; I'd rather be out and about while Uncle Frank is still around the house."

"Well, we're not doing any more private detectiving."

"We've never even started," Susie huffed. "And it'll be a crime to let my natural talent go to waste."

"Estate agenting must involve a fair amount of nosy-parkering. Why don't you ask your dad if he needs any part-time help?"

"Be careful, what you wish for, Jeffrey. Dad's always dropping hints about me working for my allowance."

"I wouldn't mind lending a finely manicured hand about the office tomorrow, Susie. I rather fancy Denise as your super-efficient, prim girl Friday, in a super tight skirt and super high heels."

"That rather appeals, Jeffrey - you're becoming quite calculating."

"No way - I'm a sentimental fool, Susie. Call mum again before we turn the corner. I like it when she's waiting at the gate for me. And it'll give her time to get over the shock of my latest incarnation."

"Here's our street, Jeffrey."

"Here's my hand, Susie."

"And mine, with my heart in it, Jeffrey."

"Your starter for ten, Jeffrey - which old geezer sings that apart from dad at the rugby club?"

"Harpic Marx ......... Ow! That punishment was uncalled for, Susie."

"Just wait until I give you the hairbrush in the office Miss Smith."

"Just wait until mum gives me the scrubbing brush in the kitchen, Susie."

"Then here we go, Jeffrey - another fine kettle of high jinks to hide from your mother. By Timotei, the adventures we're having."

"You couldn't make it up, Susie. I only hope mum thinks the same when she hears our tale."

"She's waving, Jeffrey - and she deserves a treat in return. Twirl your parasol, and let's jig to the gate."