Royal Heist (23 page)

De Jersey stared at the screen with no idea of what his next move should be. As Marsh had so succinctly put it, entering the D’Ancona safe house without a floor plan would be like walking into a minefield.

CHAPTER

18

A
s the meeting grew closer, de Jersey had still not overcome the heist’s major problem. Then he received a small padded envelope in the mail, postmarked Birmingham. He did not recognize the handwriting. He opened it and caught his breath. It contained a single CD and a typewritten note from Malcolm Gridley:

Dear Mr. Simmons,

We recently had an electronic security alert, and all our computer files had to be checked as it was first presumed to be some kind of virus that would corrupt all the data. As I was working in the office, part of my duties was to assist the IT department to verify whether any of the data had been corrupted. I therefore had access to the enclosed. I am leaving for Australia to join my girlfriend, but if you do decide to use Interlace and perhaps see your way to paying me the bonus we spoke of, my address will be Apartment 4B West Street, North Sydney, NSW 2060. If, however, you decide otherwise, perhaps you would destroy the CD. Thank you for lunch.

Yours sincerely,

Malcolm Gridley

De Jersey could not believe his luck. He kept staring at the CD and rereading the letter. At his computer his jaw dropped. Then he started to laugh. He now had everything he could have hoped for—and all for the price of a cheap lunch.

The Interlace CD contained an interactive floor plan of every section of the D’Ancona safe house. It indicated where Interlace had recommended the panic buttons be placed. It also showed the security cameras, the grilles and electronic pulses required for each door, and the costing for the equipment. One incredibly useful feature was a virtual tour of the entire safe house, and de Jersey was able to visualize the route from the front door down to the basement, where the vast vault was located. If one panic button was pressed, the alarm receiving center would alert the police almost immediately, and a team would be dispatched with an estimated response time of two minutes. Once the alert was given, all access to the building would be secured.

De Jersey was aware that D’Ancona might have made changes from what was on the CD, but even so he now felt prepared for the meeting with his key team members.

In a pin-striped suit, brown brogues, and a blue shirt, de Jersey sat at the back of the Surrey barn. Wilcox had sectioned off the area with screens, and four calor-gas heaters were blasting out warmth. There were a few folding chairs, a folding picnic table, and an old armchair he’d found in the rubbish. A camping stove stood in the makeshift kitchen to brew tea and coffee.

The team had been instructed to leave their cars in the yard at the back of the barn, which was protected from view by the overgrown hedge. As soon as de Jersey heard the first car arrive, he stood at the door with a box of surgical gloves and handed a pair to each team member as they entered. A large drawing board had been set up, and he had brought his laptop.

Driscoll was the first to arrive and snapped on the gloves without a word. He was closely followed by Pamela Kenworthy-Wright and Lord Westbrook. The bike riders would not be privy to these early meetings. As de Jersey bolted the door behind them, Pamela complained about the rubber gloves. “Wear them at all times,” de Jersey told her. “This box will be placed by the back door.”

“Are we expected to do some kind of cleaning?” Pamela inquired.

De Jersey showed her that he too was wearing them. “You know how they identified Ronnie Biggs? He put a dish of milk out for a cat. One thumbprint, that’s all it takes. When we move out of here to the second base, we must leave no record of any one of us ever having been here. Is that understood?”

The team all nodded in agreement, and Pamela made tea and coffee before taking her seat in the row of folding chairs facing the drawing board.

The team sat in awkward silence, avoiding each other’s eyes. De Jersey leaned against the table. “From now on you refer to me only as the Colonel, and you will refer to each other by Christian names only. First, Pamela.”

She raised her beaker.

“James. That’s Tony, and Henry.” He nodded to each as he said the name. “From now on we protect our identities. The less we know about each other the better. I have put my utmost trust in each of you.”

They remained silent as he picked up a black felt-tipped marker, crossed to the drawing board, and listed roles beside the names: the Colonel, main bodyguard; Henry, equerry; James, chauffeur; Her Majesty the Queen, not present; Pamela, lady-in-waiting; Tony, private secretary; two bike riders, not present.

Everyone listened as he gave the date and time they would be moving base to get ready for the hit. He detailed their jobs and explained how he and Marsh would stop the Royal convoy and how they would arrive at the safe house in place of the authentic party. By the time he told them how they would accomplish entry to the safe house, they were all ready for another round of tea and coffee. Everyone seemed tense; it was a lot to take in.

After the short break, de Jersey moved on to the last phase of the plan. “So far so good, but the most important element for all of us is getting away with it. I will use four helicopters to act as decoys. They will be ordered from various companies in the Southeast to pick up a passenger or package from various points in London. When they arrive and their assignment is not there, the helicopters will leave London to return to their bases, which will coincide with the time of the getaway. It will be mayhem after the hit, and the police will monitor the air traffic, so we want as much organized chaos and as many distractions as possible. We will split up and move across London separately. First, two boats will be taken from a mooring at Tower Bridge Marina and driven across the river by the two bike riders. They will both motor to Putney Bridge, put the boats in the boathouse, and take the Tube home.”

“That all seems very . . . well, not what I expected,” interrupted Westbrook.

“You expected fast cars, speedboats, and getaway drivers?”

Westbrook gave a shrug. “Well, I don’t know about boats. That big diamond heist that fell foul of the Dome, they were going to make their getaway by the river.”

De Jersey pinched his nose in irritation. The police, he pointed out, were already on to them, and they were not making their getaway via the river. “Anonymity is our best disguise. Just blend in with the commuters.”

De Jersey pointed to Pamela and Westbrook. “The City Thameslink Station is a five-minute walk from the safe house. You two will jump in a cab to the station. There’s always a stream of them near the Barbican. You’ll travel from there to Brighton. There’s a train at just gone eleven, which if all goes to plan, you will make easily. The next one is fifteen minutes later. From Brighton you are to separate. Pamela will go by train to Plymouth. Henry will return to his studio in Pimlico.” De Jersey knew that the only one of them that could possibly be recognized was Westbrook, but his life expectancy was so short, De Jersey didn’t feel the risk of his discovery would endanger any of them as long as Westbrook and Pamela separated.

De Jersey then pointed to Driscoll and Wilcox. “Tony, James, and I will work out the best way to get the jewels to my helicopter for the drop.” De Jersey flipped the pages on the board back to the beginning. “Any questions?”

No one said a word. Now de Jersey turned to an enlarged copy of the safe house layout. He gestured to the warehouse, which was to be their second base. “So, we move out from here and drive round the block. Now you all know the fundamentals, and I want us to begin to break it down into sections and allocate specific roles.” De Jersey nodded to Westbrook and gestured for him to come to his side.

“Henry here will detail the lineup of the Royal party, how they behave, protocol, et cetera.”

Westbrook opened a bottle of water and drank thirstily. His pale face shone with sweat. “The lady-in-waiting must, at all times, adhere to the Royal protocol. She will always be to the left side of the Queen, two or three paces behind, a small enough gap for Her Majesty to pass her her handbag or flowers without stretching. In the car, she must sit well back and not in any way hamper the view of Her Majesty. In public, she will speak only when spoken to.”

Pamela asked a few questions about her dress, her demeanor, and whether or not she should also carry a handbag. De Jersey held up his hand. “As we all have a lot of work to do, I suggest Henry work with Pamela, and we can get on with other things.”

Pamela and Westbrook disappeared into the main area of the barn. De Jersey took out a cigar and lit it. “So, what do you think?”

Wilcox glanced at Driscoll, then back to de Jersey. “What about the security measures in the safe house?” He pointed to the basic layout of the house. “This doesn’t give any information about what we’re going to be facing once we’re in there.”

De Jersey dismissed his concern. “We know there’ll be top-of-the-line security measures. I’d say we can handle it, though.”

“Yeah, well, saying and knowing are two different things. Christ only knows what could go wrong.”

De Jersey looked to each of them. “Trust me, the security will be taken care of.”

When Westbrook had finished with Pamela, he took Driscoll through his paces as the private secretary: where he would stand and how he would behave at each step of the way. By now, Wilcox was seated in the car acting as the chauffeur. The gray uniform was slightly too large, but this would not be noticed from his position behind the wheel. Westbrook instructed him to stare ahead, never look back at the passengers and never remove his cap.

De Jersey, playing a front-line role for the first time since the early raids on his father’s shops, was the bodyguard. Although the Queen usually had more than one, Westbrook agreed that, as this was not a public event, they would be fine with just de Jersey. The two bikers would pose as Special Branch police officers. De Jersey would be the first to leave the safe house, and it was imperative that he move fast.

The meeting went on for four hours, and by the end the strain showed in them all, apart from de Jersey, who remained energetic and alert. Westbrook looked gray, almost matching the chauffeur’s uniform. He took painkillers continually through the session. By the next meeting they should have done all the necessary shopping and any further research. He doled out cash to Pamela and Westbrook for their purchases. He agreed that Westbrook would assist Pamela in selecting the most suitable outfits for herself and for their Queen, including the correct type of handbag.

After the others had left, Wilcox, Driscoll, and de Jersey began a dissection of the meeting. Wilcox asked about the validity of their security information.

“For Christ’s sake, Jimmy, we have the safe house plans, and they’re authentic.”

“That’s not good enough, Eddy. I want to know
how
it’s going to be done. We’re risking a fucking lot out there.”

De Jersey lit another cigar. “We walk in through the front door, James. We’ve discussed this.”

“Yeah, okay, so what about this other unknown quantity? This guy that’s gonna give us the IRA code word and intercept the call. We are dependent on him, but we’ve not even met him. How can you be so sure that he’ll be okay on the day?”

“Marsh is an expert, not only in computers but also in telephone engineering. He’s done fantastic work so far, and if it weren’t for him, I’d never have worked out a way to stop the Royal party without the safe house knowing. He’s handling the whole technical side of the operation, and it was at his request that he has no involvement in the physical side of the heist. I respect that because it’s not necessary for him to take part.”

This satisfied Wilcox and Driscoll to some extent but not completely.

“Look, Eddy,” Wilcox said, “we’ve come this far, and it’s just odd for us not to know the full details. I dunno how Tony feels, but we’re putting a lot of responsibility on Marsh and also on Dulay. I think we should have had them here for a face-to-face. I mean, how much are we paying these guys?”

“I hear what you’re saying, but look at it from my point of view,” de Jersey said. “I’ve been laying out the cash for this. I haven’t asked you two for anything.” De Jersey picked up his black marker pen and began to write on the board. “Right now I’m paying Westbrook, Pamela, and Marsh full-time, plus one-offs to Gregory Jones and the security guy.” He listed the payments, even down to the money he intended paying Malcolm Gridley. Next he listed the fees for the helicopters and the money put aside for them to secure the speedboats. “You calculating all this, Tony? Both of you start figuring it out, cos I’m the one who’s thousands out of pocket. Then there are the costumes, the rent for this place and for the warehouse. Too damned right I’ve kept quiet about a lot of things, especially what it’s costing me to set up this fucking robbery! So far you two have contributed a few grand between you. You hear me complaining?
No!
You don’t hear me asking for the major slice when, as you can see, I’ve been working morning, noon, and night on this. But don’t fucking thank me. Sit there and moan your arses off. The pair of you make me sick.”

Driscoll and Wilcox were stunned by de Jersey’s anger, and by the sum he had invested in the heist. Equal contributions would make deep holes in the funds they’d salvaged from their ruined fortunes.

“You got something to say, Tony?” de Jersey asked as he started putting away the drawing board. He ripped up the big sheets of paper with the lists of payments and folded up the safe house plans. He put the plans into his briefcase and tossed the other papers in a dustbin.

“You could say that.” Driscoll was agitated.

“Well, say it,” de Jersey snapped, struck a match, and lit the paper.

“I’m getting serious cold feet about the whole fucking thing.”

De Jersey sat down, flicked the ash from his cigar, and stared at Driscoll. “Spit it all out now.”

“Look, Eddy, we go back a long way, but we’ve never had such a big core team. This Westbrook character, he was stuffing himself with pills all bleeding afternoon. Come four o’clock he was spaced out of his head, and this was only the first meeting. What’s he gonna be like on the day? Neither of us has met Marsh, so how do we know we can trust him? How do we know he’s going to pull it off?”