Hearing the front door close and realizing they had all gone David eased himself to a sitting position on the bed and tried to get to his feet. He had to sit back down again as he felt so sick, but it was his nerves more than still feeling ill.
DC Stanley had switched from Op One and was now down at the far end of the estate with a colleague watching the garage where John Bentley’s van was parked. He was distracted by a call over the radio.
‘Yeah, go ahead, over,’ Stanley replied.
Stanley looked up the road and in the distance could see John, Clifford and Renee coming from the estate and heading in his direction.
He turned to his colleague. ‘It looks like they’re taking Renee with them now!’
‘Maybe she’s going to be lookout,’ his colleague said.
‘Well, she doesn’t look dressed for it,’ Stanley replied, and heard the sound of a number of vehicles passing the observation van.
‘Holy shit, I don’t believe this!’ He turned to his mate and gestured for him to look through the peephole.
His colleague crouched down and peered through. ‘It’s a funeral cortège and they’re parking up in front of the garages. If the Bentleys are going to a funeral they can’t be working on the bank job during the day.’
‘Or tonight – round here there’s usually a big piss-up afterwards.’
‘Clifford and John don’t looked dressed for a funeral,’ his colleague remarked.
‘Shit, I don’t know whether to inform Bradfield or wait and see what happens,’ Stanley added, rubbing his head.
Floral tributes adorned the sides and front of the old gleaming hearse. Written in carnations almost ten inches high were the words ‘Grandson Eddie’, and more flowers were lying on top of the coffin. There were two more Daimler funeral cars parked behind the hearse. The drivers, wearing black suits and ties, stepped out of the vehicles for a quick smoke and to stretch their legs whilst they chatted with the funeral director, who was wearing a black top hat and carrying a long black traditional undertaker’s stick.
John and Clifford followed behind Renee thinking she was going to Nancy Phillips’ flat, which was near the garages, and therefore wouldn’t see them getting in the van. They both froze on the spot when they reached the point where they could see clearly along the row of garages.
‘Jesus Christ, this is a fuckin’ joke, how the hell are we gonna get the van out?’ John whispered in disbelief through gritted teeth.
‘Can’t we get them to move?’ Clifford whispered back, sweating profusely as he had so many clothes on.
‘Oh yeah, that’s very bright, Dad. They all watch us drivin’ out in a van with false logos and copied number plates – that’s just what we need. We got no option but to bloody wait.’
Renee turned and saw them both whispering. ‘I thought you two were going fishing?’
‘We were, darlin’, but Dad thought we should pay our respects to Ma Phillips and her grandson,’ John said lamely, unable to think of a better excuse.
‘You’ve changed your tune – the lad was a waste of space not five minutes ago,’ Renee said, knowing they were up to something.
John and Clifford had no way of contacting Silas as he didn’t have a phone in the café and it was too far for a walkie-talkie to work. All they could do was stand and watch impatiently as mourners began to gather around the waiting funeral cars. Nancy Phillips, dressed in a black-lace dress with matching black hat, directed who should go into which car. It all suddenly became too much for her and she broke down in floods of tears. Renee put an arm round Nancy to comfort her and she asked if Renee would accompany her in the Daimler behind the hearse. It was something of a relief for John and Clifford when Renee agreed and said she’d see them at the church.
Jane was in the incident room with Kath, who had decided to say nothing to her about Bradfield until Operation Hawk was over. Bradfield was in his office, but had lifted the mood by supplying bacon-and-egg rolls as well as teas and coffees. DS Gibbs was briefing the detectives who formed the outside arrest teams. He told them that for now it was a waiting game, but it was more than likely that the arrests would be made tonight and they would be called into position when the time was right.
‘DCI Bradfield will be making the arrests inside the vault with a couple of you as backup. Team One will take out Clifford Bentley on the car-park rooftop. It’s likely he’ll try and sling the walkie-talkie over the top, so if anyone has a good pair of hands stand down at the bottom and try and catch it before it breaks into hundreds of pieces.’
They all smiled. One of the officers said he played a bit of cricket and would be the catcher.
