The World in My Pocket

As Kitson and Bleck manhandled the caravan, Ginny drove the Buick past the truck, then reversed back so the Buick’s rear bumper came into contact with the truck’s rear bumper. Kitson and Bleck dragged the caravan close to the front of the truck.

‘Block the wheels so it can’t shift,’ Morgan said. ‘Get those crowbars, Ed! Use them to keep the front from tipping.’

Working with desperate speed, Kitson collected several big rocks and piled them against the wheels of the caravan while Bleck dug the end of the crowbars into the road, wedging them against the chassis of the caravan so it couldn’t tip forward.

‘Okay,’ Morgan said, waving to Ginny.

Kitson came to the front of the truck and stood by as Morgan opened the back of the caravan.

‘Take it steady,’ Morgan called.

Ginny began to move the Buick against the truck. Although the truck’s handbrake was on, the steady pressure from the Buick began to shift the truck.

Kitson and Bleck kept kicking the front wheels, steering the truck up the ramp of the caravan. Slowly, the truck moved into the caravan. The front wheels of the Buick mounted the ramp as it pushed the truck right inside.

‘Stop!’ Morgan called. ‘That’s got it! Ed, get the crowbars and the rifle. Kitson, couple up the caravan! Hurry! We haven’t a minute to waste!’

Ginny manoeuvred the Buick past the caravan, then turned and backed to the coupling pin which Kitson dropped into the slots.

She slid out of the driver’s seat and Kitson got in under the wheel. He turned the Buick and the caravan to face down the road.

Morgan and Bleck got into the caravan.

Both men were startled to see how much space the truck took up in the caravan. There was only about eighteen inches of clearance either side and two feet at the back. They had reckoned on sitting in the cab of the truck and it was obvious the travelling in this small space was going to be uncomfortable. If Kitson took a bend too fast the truck might shift and crush either of them.

‘Watch it,’ Morgan said as he got in. ‘If this damn truck shifts.’

Kitson nodded.

‘I’ll watch it.’

‘Hadn’t we better block the wheels?’ Bleck asked, hesitating at the door.

‘Get in, damn you!’ Morgan snarled. ‘There’s no time for that! Get going, Kitson!’

Kitson closed the back of the caravan, then ran to the driver’s seat and slid under the wheel.

Ginny had taken off her bloodstained skirt and blouse and was struggling into another grey skirt.

Kitson looked quickly at her, seeing how deadly pale she was.

Engaging gear, he drove fast down the road, feeling the sluggish response of the Buick as it dragged the great weight behind it.

As Ginny pulled up the zipper on the side of her skirt, he asked, ‘What happened?’

Briefly, her voice unsteady, she told him.

‘You mean there’s a dead man in the truck?’ Kitson asked, horrified.

‘If he’s not dead,’ Ginny said, ‘he’ll be radioing for help and we’ll be in trouble. Morgan said he had killed him.’

‘We’re going to this caravan camp with him in there?’

‘Oh, stop talking!’ Ginny said, her voice breaking. She turned away from him and hid her face in her hands.

Inside the caravan, Morgan sat with his back against the wall of the caravan, his feet braced against the rear wheel of the truck. He was thinking: Well, I’ve got it! Now I’ve got to hang on to it. I’ve killed two men for this. That was their luck. They had a lot of guts. Especially the driver. He knew I’d kill him if he moved and he did move. He had more guts than I’ve got. I wouldn’t have moved. I wouldn’t have tried for those buttons, not with a gun within a foot of my face, but he did it and he got the shutters shut. This puts us in a hell of a jam. We’re landed with his body. We’ve got to break into the truck and get him out. I hope he’s dead. If he comes to and gets that radio signal working, we’ll be sunk.

He stared up at the massive steel truck, thinking that just beyond that steel wall was a million dollars. The nagging, hot pain in his side meant nothing to him beside the excitement he felt as he thought of all that money so close to him now. On the other side of the truck, out of Morgan’s sight, Bleck squatted on the floor watching the truck, uneasy that it might shift and crush him. He had recovered his nerve now and he had got his second wind.

They had got the truck and he hadn’t been forced to kill a man. He had sidestepped the final step in his criminal career, and he realized now it was the thought of this step that had broken up his nerves. Now he was ready to tackle anything. He wasn’t after all a man apart, but he knew Morgan wouldn’t ever trust him again and he would have to watch him in case he tried to gyp him out of his share.

When Kitson had driven a couple of miles, he saw Gypo walking fast up the road towards the approaching Buick.

Kitson pulled up and Gypo ran towards him.

‘Have you got it?’ he asked, his eyes round. ‘It went all right?’

‘Yes,’ Kitson said. ‘Come on: get in the back!’

He got out and opened the back of the caravan. He went around with Gypo and looked inside.