The landlord behind the bar was drying a glass and eyeing them suspiciously. Several other people in the bar were also whispering about the strange foursome with their TV.
The others hadn’t noticed anything but Jones got Simon to replay a bit of time. One of the robbers took an envelope out of his pocket, looked at it and then put it back in the pocket only it must have missed and fell to the floor, so he picked it up and began to take out the paper within, but suddenly pushed it back in, closed the envelope and re-pocketed it.
“What of it?” Asked Simon curiously. “It looked like a bill of some sort, brown envelope with a window.”
“He didn’t drop it!” Stated Jones.
The others just looked confused and gestured to the screen as if to say, ‘but we saw that he did!’
Jones shook his head, “Play it again.” The professor did so.
Jones explained. “See the guy on his own. He is reaching for something at the same moment. When our man here, ‘drops’ his envelope, he hasn’t dropped it at all, it goes safely in his pocket. The envelope on the floor has come from the guy behind, but is picked up by our man.”
“Oh yeah!” Exclaimed Smith.
The viewer continued to show the following few moments and the robber who picked up the envelope started to open it and pull out the piece of paper inside but quickly pops it back in and puts it in his pocket. Knowing what had occurred, they all now noticed that the lone man had put his hand to his face and shook his head when the man had started to open the envelope. He had clearly told him not to look at it yet. In the time it took the robber to pocket the envelope, the lone man had stood up and left. The robber was a little startled to find him gone but soon composed himself and after a couple of seconds he nudged his accomplice, they both drank up and stood and left themselves.
“Right!” Said Jones, again too loudly. “Let’s see what’s on that paper!”
The barman, still polishing the same glass, slowly, nudged his wife who had just come through from the back and made some comment about the weirdo’s in his pub.
Simon picked up the viewer and was soon held back by the cables. He looked to Smith and nodded towards the battery. The sergeant soon had it in hand again and they all moved towards the table where the crooks had sat. Simon lifted and turned the viewer for the best view and Jones reached in and turned the dial to replay the envelope opening.
At the bar, the landlord had stopped polishing the glass, though he still held the towel in it as he looked on, incredulous. At his side was his wife, also gazing at them and overflowing a pint into the bargain. All round the pub, no one could now ignore the four people grouped next to the table in the middle of the room with their strange gizmo.
At that moment, a figure stood up amongst them. It was an old gentleman who had been sitting at the table where the robbers had sat earlier but had gone completely un-noticed by the four.
“Excuse me!” He huffed. Then took hold of his wife’s arm, who had now also stood, and led her out.
At this, the landlord had finally had enough and angrily put down the spotlessly clean glass. “What on earth are you lot playing at upsetting my customers? Get out! And never come back!”
Simon slowly lowered the viewer and they all looked guiltily towards the landlord.
Jones reached for his warrant card and simply said, “Police, thank you for your help, we’re done here.” He then ushered the other three out.
The landlord picked up the glass again and continued to polish it. “Weirdo’s!”
His wife now realised she had tried to put about four pints into one pint glass and turned off the pump, jumping back to avoid the spillage. Then she recovered a little and commented, “I thought they were trying to see into poor Mr. Bailey’s ear or something.”
Everyone in the pub was staring to where the four had just left and no-one had anything to say.
Outside, they crossed to the car and climbed back into it. It was a little difficult getting the battery in but they were soon done, and not for the first time, Simon determined that he would put longer cables on it.
“Right!” Began Jones when they were settled. “All I saw was, ’The switch will be made at Sh’ ….something. Anyone notice anything else?”
“No sir, that’s what I saw too.” Said Smith. The other two nodded and murmured in agreement.
“Inspector, we…” began the professor, indicating himself and Harry to the detective, “..We could probably be more helpful if we understood what was going on. We don’t even know what was stolen.”
“Hmmmm,” thought DI Jones, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you some of the details, and as you say, it may help work out where ’Sh’ is.”
He explained that the stolen articles were a set of jewellery that belong to the Astovian royal family. They had been loaned to the mayoress for display at the annual fayre. He wasn’t sure of the details but it was something to do with an anniversary, a friendship and the fact that the royals had been sending their children to a local school for several generations.
“Shifnal fayre!” Interrupted Simon.
“What?” Replied Jones.
The professor looked at him and repeated, “Shifnal fayre. The letter. The place, ‘Sh‘…could be Shifnal fayre.”
“Your right. Those smug …mmmm…so and so’s.” Jones stopped himself swearing in front of Harry. “They would enjoy handing over the loot right under the noses of the people they stole it from. Can you meet us there prof? I have a feeling that we‘ll need your viewer again.”
“Of course.” Agreed Simon.
Harry was about to say that he’d be there too but thought he’d just turn up without giving them the chance to tell him no.
Chapter 5.
When Simon arrived at the fayre and found the two policemen, DI Jones was on his mobile phone to what must have been his superior officer.
“Yes sir…” he was saying, “…we have all the entrances and exits covered with plain clothes. Everyone has photos of the known villains but are under strict instructions to monitor only and report anything to me.” There was a long interval where Jones nodded along as he was clearly being talked to by the person on the other end. Then he continued, “Yes sir, that is the intention, we will get Mr. Big if at all possible.”
When he had put his phone away, he greeted Simon with a hand shake. Just at that moment, Harry scooted up, “Hello prof, hello inspector, sergeant.”
“Harry!” Started Jones, “You shouldn’t be here…”
“But inspector, I can help, I know I can.” He protested.
Jones was sure it was a mistake but he saw the looks on his sergeants and the professor’s faces and relented, “Ok, you can stay. But you stay with us and don’t do or say anything.” He did think that it might be an advantage having him around as they definitely didn’t look like police with a young lad on a scooter in tow.
The fayre was filling up now and Jones had received word that the two robbers were here and also a man answering the description of the contact from the pub. He called all the units on his radio to confirm all was well and then they were ready to enter the fayre.
There was a lot going on and they wished they could enjoy the day rather than chase criminals. There were livestock shows, farm equipment displays, entertainments in and out of marquees and an upmarket boot sale of sorts. It was a stall on here that caught Jones eye.
“There’s the contact from the pub!” He gestured. “At that antiques stall.”
“And the crooks are heading there too.” Noted Smith as he directed his bosses gaze to another part of the boot sale where the familiar robbers were walking and carrying a holdall very similar to the one they used in the robbery.
“Right, I’ll go to the stall this side with Harry. You two go to the one on the other side. Look like you’re buying and look and listen to the subjects.”
They all did as they were told and arrived at the stalls just as the robbers were arriving at the antiques stall manned by the contact from yesterday. All six of them began looking at items as if they were interested in them. Jones picked up an old mirror, Harry was very happy to look at a vintage dagger, Smith and the prof were not so happy as their stall was all clothes, and mainly women’s at that. Smith had a head scarf that he almost tried on before thinking that he should just pretend he was shopping for someone else.
The robbers looked at a few things before asking the contact if he had any vintage weaponry.
Contact man stood up from leaning on the back of his car. “I’ve got something you might be interested in.” He said while reaching under the table. “A pair of duelling pistols.” He produced a black, leather bound box and opened the lid to reveal two old pistols neatly nested in shaped pockets inside. They looked impressive in their red velvet home. Jones wondered if they were real or a prop.
One of the crooks reaches for the box. “May I?” He asked.
Contact man passed it over and the two robbers inspected them carefully. Then a woman came around to where contact man was standing. She seemed to be part of the stall ‘staff’. She looked over at the pair of pistols that the robbers were looking at and said, a little too loudly to contact man, “I told you not to bring those. I have a buyer who’s put a deposit on them.”
Contact made a big display of apologising to the robbers and asked for them back. “I’m sorry,” he said, “They’re not for sale I’m afraid.”
“Oh, what a shame.” Responded one robber.
“Yes,” said the other, “They’re nice examples and just the sort of thing we were looking for.” He closed and latched the lid, then, instead of handing it straight back, let it drop to his side where it was out of sight for a couple of seconds. When he lifted it back up, Jones knew instinctively that a switch had been made. The box was handed back to contact man, ‘good days’ were exchanged, and then the box was taken to the side of the car behind and stowed safely on the back seat.
“Right!” Thought Jones. “We have everything we need. Where’s young Harry gone?!” He cast around but couldn’t see him. Then the youngster appeared from under the stall table. He was just putting his second arm into the strap of his rucksack.
“Where have you been?” Scolded Jones, but without waiting for an answer, continued, “Back to the rendezvous point, come on.”
As they all gathered back at the police car. Simon noticed that Harry was no longer on his scooter.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you not on your scooter.” He remarked.
“Oh, I’ve put it in my bag.” Harry replied, “I’m done with it for now.”
Jones addressed them all now. “Good work all. We have what we need. Did you see the switch?”
The professor wasn’t sure that he had, but assumed it must have taken place when the robbers walked away from the stall without asking about anything else.
Smith piped up next, “I’m guessing we will use the viewer to follow contact man later and let him lead us to Mr. Big.”
“Precisely!” Said Jones with satisfaction and radioed all his men to stand down or continue as ordered.
“What are their orders?” Enquired the professor.
“We have the two crooks being tailed for now. We won’t nab them until we have Mr. Big, but as soon as we’ve got him - wham!” He brought his hands together in a grabbing motion.
Simon nodded approvingly. For an adventure that he had embarked on so reluctantly, he was enjoying this immensely.
Chapter 6.
Later that day, Simon brought his viewer to the police station as arranged. He, Jones and Smith loaded it into the car and they all drove over to the fayre ground where they could pick up the trail of contact man. They were very practiced at this now and so the operation went very smoothly and they soon found themselves outside the gates to a very large house where they watched the car they were following drive in a couple of hours before.
They used the viewer to wind forwards and backwards from their present time in order to establish as best they could who was in the house and who may have left. All were still there, including Mr. Big, who was known to both the policemen. He was a big prize indeed. A local ‘business man’ who, though known to be up to no good, was too good at covering his tracks to have been even remotely connected to anything that could be used against him - until now perhaps.
Jones got DS Smith to drive around the outside wall so they could find all possible entrances and exits. Once happy, he called in the personnel he had on standby. He had known he would need them, now he knew where he needed them.
He also called his boss. On his mobile now rather than the radio. Simon assumed that superior officers didn’t carry radios around with them.
“Yes sir, all set. Mr. Big is Godfrey Davies. We’re staking out the place as we speak…… I can’t explain that right now sir, I simply have a very good informant…… Yes sir, the jewels are on the premises….. I‘m sure the mayoress is upset sir! I hope to put her mind to rest soon, and the Princess of course.” He jabbed the call ended button and put the phone away.
“Princess?” Asked both Simon and the sergeant.
“Did you not see her at the fayre then? Too busy I suppose. The Princess Anouska of Astovia. Owner, or one of the owners, of the jewels. She was the most recent pupil from the family to attend the academy here. Only left last year. I believe she’s at Cambridge University now. Loves Shifnal and Shropshire by all accounts. Must do if she lends us priceless jewellery, eh?”
Simon was impressed by the circles he was now, or shortly would be, moving in. If only for a brief time.
DI Jones was back to his efficient and professional self. He radioed his teams and ascertained that they were in position. Then he informed them that they would go in in ten minutes. They drove back to the gates where they met another two cars and a van, this time clearly police vehicles. All three got out and met the occupants of the other cars. They were eight uniformed officers who were far more equipped than the average bobby, including guns. Simon got a little nervous at this but DI Jones quickly put his mind at rest.
“Thank you professor. I think this is strictly a police matter from here on in, if you would like to wait in the car with your equipment.”
Simon was only too glad to oblige and he returned to the back seat of the car and shut the door.
He watched the police officers checking their equipment and their watches. He looked across to the police van where two officers remained. He looked back and saw for the first time that there were other police at regular points along what he could see of the perimeter wall.
“This is a big operation.” He thought. “And I’ve been a key part of it.”
He looked back to the front just in time to see Jones check his watch and then lift his arm and signal to move in. Four of the armed men ran on ahead, Jones and Smith right behind. Smith had what Simon could only assume was a battering ram of some description. The other four men stopped at the gate to cover it. He was glad that they seemed prepared for anything.
Once they had disappeared into the property, nothing happened for a few minutes but then he heard shouting, the roar of a car engine, a couple of gunshots and what might have been a car crash. If he could see his face, he may have laughed. At least he might have once this was all over.
Soon it seemed it was. All the officers came back out and they had a good few hand cuffed people with them who were bundled into the van.
Simon was concerned that DI Jones and DS Smith didn’t seem to be in very good moods as they walked back to their car. He let them get in before inquiring, “Did it go well? No-one got hurt?”
Jones turned to half face him. “No, no-one hurt thankfully. A successful operation in fact……We got Mr. Big. And we’ll have the evidence to nail him too.”
“But?” Asked Simon, as he knew there was a but yet to be disclosed.
“But,” Continued the inspector, “Godfrey flippin’ Davies managed to throw the jewels into his waste incinerator…. They’ll be recoverable, well the stones will be I should think, but the princess isn’t going to like the gold parts as much as she used too!”
Chapter 7.
Later that night, spruced up and in his best - his only - suit. Professor Simon Evans prepared himself mentally to be introduced to a princess.
He climbed out of his taxi outside the biggest and most exclusive hotel that this corner of Britain could muster, paid the driver, and began walking to the entrance.
“Professor!” Came a voice from his left. He looked around and it was DI Jones. They smiled and shook hands then went in.
There was security here too. Simon had seen more security in the last twelve hours than he had ever seen before. The inspector flashed his pass at a guard and Simon had to fish about in his pockets to find the one he had been given earlier. With the guard satisfied, they both entered the lift and DS Smith caught up with them just in time to catch the doors before they slid shut.
The floor they exited onto, the top most floor, was very plush and opulent. It must have been reserved for VIP guests thought Simon. A short walk later and they were showing their passes again before being let into the suite where the princess Anouska was staying.
~*~
Outside the hotel, one of the guards was having a ‘discussion’ with a young man. It was Harry. He wanted to get in too and explained to the guard that he should be in there and that he knew DI Jones, DS Smith, the professor and all. The guard would not let him in though.
Harry turned away with a slump. One strap of his rucksack slipped off his shoulder and he pulled it back up as he slunk away.
~*~
Simon was a little awestruck by everything. He had been introduced to the Mayor, the Mayoress, the police commissioner and was about to meet the princess. It was the mayoress who would introduce him and she explained to the princess that Simon had been involved in the case, but when she started to explain how, she realised she had no idea so cut it short.
“So pleased to meet you.” responded the beautifully dressed royal. She wore a very elegant evening dress in a stately deep blue. She was adorned in diamonds from broaches to ear rings to a tiara on her perfectly set hair. She was also very beautiful. Breathtakingly so, as Simon discovered when he tried to speak.
“Your lady….highness, ma’am.” He gave up and bowed instead.
“Please, no need to bow. Thank you for what you did.”
“I’m so sorry we couldn’t return your jewels …. In the condition you last saw them.” Stammered Simon and heard a whimper from the mayoress as she was reminded that she had allowed this to happen. “But I believe the stones will be fine.” He added optimistically.
“Ah yes. The stones. They are indeed quite valuable but the real value was what the collection meant to my family. They were a gift from your royal family one hundred and forty three years ago and have been passed down ever since. They have also been used in our royal ceremonies.”
She may have continued but the mayoress was openly weeping now. The princess clearly felt for her and regretted making such an emotional outpouring.
“But they are only things!” She continued brightly. “We should be glad that no person got hurt. Here, the food is arriving. We will eat and drink and celebrate the fact that a major crime consortium has been brought to justice today.”
There were several trolleys of food being wheeled in by hotel staff. All containing highly polished food covers, champagne buckets, plates, cutlery, glasses and so forth. Each trolley was draped in a silk table cloth and the sides were draped in curtains of the same white silk.
The curtain on the first trolley began to move and it became clear that someone or something was inside trying to get out. The princess gasped and Jones, Smith and many other officers moved to take up position between her and the perceived threat.
When whatever it was inside finally found the gap in the curtain. They parted and out jumped…Harry.
He was quickly grabbed by each arm. Even when those that knew him explained who he was, he was not released.
“I’ve got something for the princess!” Harry tried to explain.
DI Jones realised that the only thing to do was to explain to the princess who Harry was.
Once he had done so, the princess glided over to him. Harry’s arms were released and Anouska leaned down to him to take his hand.
“Thank you too, Harry. I am very grateful to you, you were most brave.”
“Are you the princess?” Asked Harry. He was probably even more awestruck than the professor had been.
“I am. Please call me Anouska.”
“I’ve got something for you, your ‘ighness.” Harry bowed a most impressive bow but was pulled back up by Anouska. “No need to bow. Now what have you got?”
Harry slipped his rucksack off and reached inside. He pulled out a black leather bound box just like the one the duelling pistols had been in. Just like the one that the jewels had been in also. The whole room gasped and the princess’s face lit up with anticipation.
“I saved these for you your ‘ighness.”
Anouska trembled as she took the box. She placed it on a table and turned it so that the latch faced her. She looked at Harry and let out an excited little squeal as she undid the latches. The tension was palpable, but Anouska couldn‘t quite make herself open the lid. Was she waiting to be deflated when it turned out that the boy had not got the jewels? How could he have the jewels? The more she thought, the more she realised it was impossible. Young Harry meant well, she thought. Perhaps he had put some of his mum’s jewels in a nice box thinking it would compensate. The box did look like the one the jewels had been in though! She could wait no longer. The people in the room would fall over soon if she didn’t open it.
So she slowly lifted the lid.
She let out a gasp and put her hands to her mouth. Then she threw her arms around Harry and picked him up and twirled him around.
“How did you get them Harry?” She cried.
When she had put Harry down and he had recovered some composure, he explained. “I never seen real jewels before so when we was at the fayre, I nicked back the box with the guns from the bag the robbers had, and I swapped it for the box with the jewels in the back of the car. I wasn’t goin’ to keep ’em. I just wanted to look at ’em for a bit.”
“You clever young man.” Exclaimed the princess. “This deserves a big reward. What can I possibly do to repay you?”
Harry didn’t need long to think. “Well your ’ighness, I do need a new scooter. I had to leave me old one at the fayre when I rescued the jewels back!”
The end
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