Read Online The Wicked Mr Hall by Roy Archibald Hall - Free Book Online

almost shrouded him completely. I looked through the racing pages, there were horses running in that week’s Aintree meeting called ‘Sailing Light’ and ‘Early Mist’. I bet one hundred pounds each way in a double. To my delight they both won. I won thousands, thousands that I did not need. I was on a roll, this was a life worth living.
    Ten years older than me, John was now considering settling down. My mother and he were thinking along the lines of a pub or guest house. Torquay was a possible option and the idea of retiring to the coast seemed to be on the cards. A life of active crime was now becoming a thing of the past for John. He was reaching mid-life and he had my mother to think of. We looked at what was left of the haul from Edinburgh – forty pieces of jewellery, which contained some aquamarines thought by The Guardian to be part of the Hungarian crown jewels. I paid John a fair price for his share. He was now cut free from the job, all he had to do was keep out of the reach of the long arm of the law.
    While John and my mother started looking at possible properties, I took a quick trip to London’s East End. Carrying a suitcase of clothes that I didn’t really need, I knocked on the door of Johnny Collins. There was no need for long-winded explantions. I handed him the case, told him that, as a security measure, I was dispersing my belongings among a few trusted friends. Iasked him to put it in his attic and told him that I would be back to claim it some day. Among the thieves I worked with, there was a code of honour. None of us would break it, it was our bond, our only security in a world full of law-abiding grasses.
    My mother and John rented a furnished house in Margate. It was from there John called me and said he had something he wanted me to look at. Criminals are averse to discussing things in detail over the phone. I didn’t ask any questions but drove straight to the coast. As I got out of my brand-new Jaguar, outside John’s door, I noticed a man reading a newspaper on a park bench. He gave me more than a passing glance. My instincts immediately went on alert. Entering the house I told John of my suspicions. He said I was imagining it, but I was growing uneasier by the second. I told him I was leaving, whatever it was he wanted to discuss would have to wait. Going straight back out, I got into the Jag and fired the engine. The man on the park bench had disappeared. I couldn’t clarify my thoughts. All I knew was that I smelled danger. I drove around the corner and two police cars came at me from either side. A third, as if from nowhere, appeared behind me. Plain clothes and uniforms surrounded my car. I was nicked.
    This was the price I paid for not wanting to leave my new car. If I had left by the back door, jumped over some garden fences and made my way on foot, maybe I would have got away. But I didn’t. The car was my pride and joy. They say material greed is one of man’s downfalls – on that day it was mine.
    I denied everything. Under heavy escort, we were all taken first to London and then on to Edinburgh by train. We arrived late at night. The train and platform emptied before anyone moved. When we stepped off the train we were met by Chief Constable Merrilees. Coming up to me he shook my hand and said: ‘So you’re Fontaine. Well, I’m glad it was one of her own – and not foreigners like the press have been speculating.
    Prior to us robbing her, Esther Henry had been on something of a shopping expedition. She had travelled through Europe buying antiques and jewels. Her eventual destination was Egypt where she had been invited by the late King Farouk to look at some objets d’art that he was willing to sell. After making her purchases she had returned to Scotland via Hungary, where I think she bought the aquamarines now in my possession. Theories had been put forward by the Scottish press that she had been trailed back to Edinburgh by a gang of international jewel thieves,