‘French windows with slide bolts—child’s play. People are so silly. You should see my place, that’s really well protected against burglars.’
‘Is it?’ I said.
‘Of course,’ said Ossie, ‘you have to pay to have the best protection but it beats me why people are so mean. After —that’s when they get properly equipped, after they’ve been done.’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘I made a lot of mess,’ said Ossie.
‘I noticed,’ I said.
‘Modus operandi,’ said Ossie mysteriously. ‘Sometimes I’m neat, sometimes I’m messy. It keeps the Yard puzzled.’
‘I’ll bet it does.’
‘Mind you,’ said Ossie, ‘thanks for the old one-two on the door bell. I’d quite forgotten how the time was. I had to scarper when I heard you at the door.’ He tugged at his nose and gave a little smile.
‘What did you make of it?’
‘Well,’ said Ossie cautiously. ‘Unmarried girl living alone. Lots of men friends. Gets three hundred dollars per week from Chase Manhattan Bank, New York.’
I nodded.
‘United Nations Plaza Branch,’ said Ossie. He was proud of being thorough.
‘US passport in name of Samantha Steel. Israeli passport in name of Hanna Stahl showing same girl but with blonde hair. Quite a lot of jewellery—expensive stuff, no rubbish. Real mink coat. Real. I could get a thousand quid for it. So legit, it would be worth three or four.’
‘Would it?’ I said. I poured more refreshment and Ossie removed his boots and a pair of scarlet socks which he arranged in the fireplace.
‘I don’t say she’s a whore,’ said Ossie, ‘but she’s got a good standard of living.’ His socks were steaming in the heat of the fire. ‘Educated,’ said Ossie.
‘Yes?’ I said.
‘All kinds of books—psychology, poetry, all sorts of stuff.’
I went and made coffee while Ossie dried his feet. Outside the weather was terrible; the rain trickled constantly against the windows and there was a hollow drumming sound as torrents of it roared along the guttering and spilled over in great sheets that crashed on to the concrete of the back garden. By the time I returned with the coffee, Ossie had unpacked his little Gladstone bag. There were a couple of tiny jemmies and a Stilson wrench and a lot of lock-picking devices that Ossie had made himself. There were two yellow dusters, a pair of carpet slippers and a Polaroid Automatic 100 camera.
‘Like this,’ said Ossie. He held the set of Polaroidphotos for me. Only one of them was of interest: a view of a box-room showing a bench with a monocular microscope—a professional-looking job with revolving objectives and some chemical gear—mounted specimens and test tubes. It was the titles of the books on the bench that I wanted to see.
‘It’s no good,’ I said. ‘I can’t read the titles even with a glass. Don’t you remember any of them?’
‘I told you,’ said Ossie. ‘I was going to write some of the titles down when I heard you bash the door bell. I can go back—it’s easy.’
‘No, don’t do that. Just try and remember one title.’
We sat there, with me looking at Ossie’s funny bulbous old face and Ossie’s bright little eyes gazing in the fire and trying to recollect the brief glimpse of the books.
‘For instance,’ I prompted, ‘did any one of them say “enzyme”?’
‘Luvaduck,’ said Ossie, his face glowing with a huge smile of content. ‘That’s it, you’ve said it, “enzymes”, they nearly all were about enzymes.’
He couldn’t remember the full titles but I knew he wouldn’t make them up. He was one of the best B & E 1 men we had and one of our most reliable retainers.
‘How did you know?’ said Ossie.
‘I just guessed,’ I said. ‘She just seemed the sort of girl who would be interested in enzymes.’
----
1 B & E: Breaking and entering.
Chapter 16
Every pawn is a potential queen.
Whitehall, Saturday, October 12th
‘Wonderful at coronations.’
‘I’ll bet,’ I said.
‘You can see them
‘Is it?’ I said.
‘Of course,’ said Ossie, ‘you have to pay to have the best protection but it beats me why people are so mean. After —that’s when they get properly equipped, after they’ve been done.’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘I made a lot of mess,’ said Ossie.
‘I noticed,’ I said.
‘Modus operandi,’ said Ossie mysteriously. ‘Sometimes I’m neat, sometimes I’m messy. It keeps the Yard puzzled.’
‘I’ll bet it does.’
‘Mind you,’ said Ossie, ‘thanks for the old one-two on the door bell. I’d quite forgotten how the time was. I had to scarper when I heard you at the door.’ He tugged at his nose and gave a little smile.
‘What did you make of it?’
‘Well,’ said Ossie cautiously. ‘Unmarried girl living alone. Lots of men friends. Gets three hundred dollars per week from Chase Manhattan Bank, New York.’
I nodded.
‘United Nations Plaza Branch,’ said Ossie. He was proud of being thorough.
‘US passport in name of Samantha Steel. Israeli passport in name of Hanna Stahl showing same girl but with blonde hair. Quite a lot of jewellery—expensive stuff, no rubbish. Real mink coat. Real. I could get a thousand quid for it. So legit, it would be worth three or four.’
‘Would it?’ I said. I poured more refreshment and Ossie removed his boots and a pair of scarlet socks which he arranged in the fireplace.
‘I don’t say she’s a whore,’ said Ossie, ‘but she’s got a good standard of living.’ His socks were steaming in the heat of the fire. ‘Educated,’ said Ossie.
‘Yes?’ I said.
‘All kinds of books—psychology, poetry, all sorts of stuff.’
I went and made coffee while Ossie dried his feet. Outside the weather was terrible; the rain trickled constantly against the windows and there was a hollow drumming sound as torrents of it roared along the guttering and spilled over in great sheets that crashed on to the concrete of the back garden. By the time I returned with the coffee, Ossie had unpacked his little Gladstone bag. There were a couple of tiny jemmies and a Stilson wrench and a lot of lock-picking devices that Ossie had made himself. There were two yellow dusters, a pair of carpet slippers and a Polaroid Automatic 100 camera.
‘Like this,’ said Ossie. He held the set of Polaroidphotos for me. Only one of them was of interest: a view of a box-room showing a bench with a monocular microscope—a professional-looking job with revolving objectives and some chemical gear—mounted specimens and test tubes. It was the titles of the books on the bench that I wanted to see.
‘It’s no good,’ I said. ‘I can’t read the titles even with a glass. Don’t you remember any of them?’
‘I told you,’ said Ossie. ‘I was going to write some of the titles down when I heard you bash the door bell. I can go back—it’s easy.’
‘No, don’t do that. Just try and remember one title.’
We sat there, with me looking at Ossie’s funny bulbous old face and Ossie’s bright little eyes gazing in the fire and trying to recollect the brief glimpse of the books.
‘For instance,’ I prompted, ‘did any one of them say “enzyme”?’
‘Luvaduck,’ said Ossie, his face glowing with a huge smile of content. ‘That’s it, you’ve said it, “enzymes”, they nearly all were about enzymes.’
He couldn’t remember the full titles but I knew he wouldn’t make them up. He was one of the best B & E 1 men we had and one of our most reliable retainers.
‘How did you know?’ said Ossie.
‘I just guessed,’ I said. ‘She just seemed the sort of girl who would be interested in enzymes.’
----
1 B & E: Breaking and entering.
Chapter 16
Every pawn is a potential queen.
Whitehall, Saturday, October 12th
‘Wonderful at coronations.’
‘I’ll bet,’ I said.
‘You can see them
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