Read Dark Side of the Street - Simon Vaughn 01 (v5) for Free Online Page A

you?"
    "Actually, I've already got something lined up," Mallory continued calmly. "I got it from one of our contacts at the Yard. Whenever they find a firm that isn't taking adequate security precautions, they step in and offer some sound advice. In this case it might have more effect coming from you. You'll have to let them catch you of course."
    "Nice of you to put it that way. What if I show them a clean pair of heels?"
    "An anonymous phone call to the Yard telling them where you are should do the trick." He smiled. "I'm sure Jean Frazer would enjoy handling that bit."
    Chavasse sighed. "Well, I did say I wanted a little more action. What's the firm?"
    Mallory opened another file and pushed it across. "Lonsdale Metals," he said.
    The guard on the gate stretched and took a couple of paces towards the gatehouse, easing his cramped muscles. A long morning, but only ten minutes to go. He turned and a red works van shot out of the garage and roared across the yard, gears racing.
    As he jumped forward in alarm, it skidded to a halt, the bonnet no more than a yard away from the swing bar that blocked the entrance. The young man who scrambled out of the cab looked considerably shocked and there was blood on his face. He lost his balance, falling to one knee and as the guard helped him to his feet he was joined by his three companions.
    The driver seemed to have difficulty in speaking. He swallowed then flung out an arm dramatically in the general direction of the main block. "Wages office!" he managed to gasp.
    He started to sag to the ground and the gate guard caught him quickly. "Better get up there fast," he said to the other three. "I'll get this lad inside and phone for the police."
    They went across the yard on the run, the Alsatian at their heels and the gate guard tightened his grip around the van driver's shoulders. "You don't look too good. Come in and sit down."
    The driver nodded, wiping blood from his face with the back of a hand and together, they moved into the gatehouse. The guard could never afterwards be quite sure about what happened next. He eased the driver into a chair and moved towards the desk. He was aware of no sound, but as he reached for the telephone was struck a stunning blow at the base of the skull that sent him crashing to the floor.
    He lay there for a few moments, senses reeling, aware of the clang of the swing bar outside as it was raised, of the sudden roar of an engine as the van was driven rapidly away and then darkness flooded over him.
    When Chavasse went up the stairs of the dingy house in Poplar and opened the door at the end of the landing, Jean Frazer was lying on the bed reading a magazine.
    She swung her legs to the floor, a slight frown on her face. "Is that blood on your cheek?"
    Chavasse wiped it away casually. "Something else entirely, I assure you."
    "Did you get in?"
    "And out again."
    Her eyes widened. "With the money?"
    He nodded. "It's downstairs in the yard in an old Ford van I bought this morning."
    "Presumably the law isn't far behind?"
    Chavasse moved to the window wiping his face with a towel and peered into the street. "I shouldn't think so. I switched vehicles miles away on the other side of the Thames. In fact if I hadn't shown my face around as much as I did, I've a shrewd suspicion I could have got away with this."
    "Dangerous talk." She pulled on her shoes. "Seriously, Paul, how on earth did you manage it?"
    "You know what the newsboys say? Read all about it. I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."
    She sighed. "Ah, well, I suppose I'd better go and put in that call to Scotland Yard."
    As she moved round the bed he pulled her into his arms. "I could be away for a hell of a long time, Jean," he said mockingly. "I don't suppose you'd care to give me something to remember you by."
    She pulled down his head, kissed him once and disengaged herself. "The best I can do at the moment. I've got my Delilah bit to take care of. If Mallory lets me, I'll come and see you on visiting