A Routine Robbery by Bob Baynes
Duke was a careful and meticulous planner, which is why he had never been caught. He and Linda lived a very comfortable life, ate at the best restaurants had elegant, understated belongings but were conscious not to attract any interest or worse still, curiosity about their life styles. Duke knew that the colour of his skin did not help him camouflage his considerable wealth. Both Duke and Linda kept themselves incredibly fit, nimble and athletic which was a real bonus in their chosen trade; they were very successful cat burglars.
This dark November evening they had travelled from their house in Clapham to Suffolk. Duke’s extensive network of informants had hard evidence that Hardacre Hall, Judge Blackstones sprawling house would be empty this weekend. He was flying out to the Caribbean and unusually had allowed his small staff the weekend off too.
Nine o’clock Saturday night on a dark, cold and moonless evening during the Strictly finals on television guaranteed the best chance of not being surprised. A swirling mist covered their movements rendering them almost invisible, dressed as they were in one piece body hugging black overalls, black balaclavas and the latest night vision glasses. Scaling the rough stone walls was simple, and they forced a sash window on the 3rd floor, the least likely level for alarms. They had neutralised the telephone lines in any case.
Apart from rumours, there was scant information about specific treasures in the house, so the whole operation was a bit of a gamble. The judge was a very private man. They were mildly disappointed that few items of easily fenced high value were on display. They descended to the ground floor where they discovered the cellar doors were secured with state of the art locks and integrated alarms – very promising. Duke enjoyed a good challenge, and set about carefully disarming the judge’s defences.
After twenty minutes, well-oiled doors swung silently open. Steps, softly illuminated with dim red light led downwards. They descended ancient stone stairs into a large vaulted flag-stoned room. Painted in the centre of the floor was a gold circle with a five pointed star inside it. At the end of the room was a large, dark stained, sarcophagus-like stone plinth. Behind it was another locked door. Duke quickly picked the lock and they entered the second chamber.
They switched off their night vision glasses and turned on powerful LED head torches. The walls that sprang out of the darkness were hung with paintings like no other they’d seen before. The first one that was a life size painting of a naked man but with a goat’s head and red, piercing eyes. Shelves and cases filled with obviously ancient instruments of torture lined the walls below grotesque paintings. An open cupboard containing hooded cowls beckoned, on a table was a small desiccated human with an outsize head, and so the horrors went on. It was Linda who remarked on it first, “Duke,” she said, “this place gives me the creeps, and I swear it’s getting colder by the minute.”
Duke was uneasy too, but he didn’t want to frighten Linda, after all, the judge was abroad. As he examined a jewel encrusted dagger, a Gregorian chant grew from a mere whisper, their torches with fully charged batteries started to dim. They heard the door at the top of the stairs shut with an echoing bang. In the growing darkness the figures in the paintings were turning 3 dimensional, and the man/goat’s blood red eyes swivelled towards them.
Jackie says: Well I’m not going to Bob’s house to buy plants! The only piece to be story-led, as distinct from a mainly descriptive piece. A nice touch of the Denis Wheatley. But we still get a sense of the judge’s character, as per the brief. Unlike Simon, I thought the story was complete- we knew pretty much what would happen as in the last scene of almost any Hammer Horror.
The set-up of the married cat burglars is nicely done. I liked their professional practicalities, the clothes they wore for the job, and their good sense in staging it during the Strictly finals. Then we get the build-up to the actual break-in and are led to a pay-off of almost Gothic horror. And there’s a moral, of course – never trust a judge. I felt this piece was a demonstration of the difficulties of writing within 500 words. I know I was the one who imposed that limit and for most exercises it works well enough. But this burglary story would have benefitted from further development, more time to build up the tension before the pay-off. But it certainly fulfils the brief in terms of surprising us about the judge’s character. And, like all good writing, it leaves one wanting to read more.