Too Long on Simmer
Chapter 1
The cons were lounging out in the courtyard. Mrs. Greeves was cleaning the room they shared so they had come outside. After a cold hard winter the sun had apologized and was now starting to thaw out the landscape. The cement steps to the courtyard were still wet from the melting snow so they stood and leaned against the railing. Goniff, ever looking for some fun, spotted a shaded spot where a patch of snow had survived. Casually he moved over, scooped up a handful, crafted it into a projectile and lobbed it at his favorite target, Casino.
Thought he had not noticed the Englishman's initial actions he caught the arm movement out of the corner of his eye and he was able to duck out of the way just in time. The wet blob smacked harmlessly on the step but the game was on.
Charging after the thrower Casino scooped up the last of the wet stuff but it was too wet to form so he continued to chase him. Goniff laughed as he evaded to inevitable face-washing.
Actor, pipe in hand, watched the interplay. It had been a long time since he had indulged in a snowball fight and a part of him longed for those carefree days. Instead he turned to his companion with a smile. Was he going to join in? The other man's relaxed posture said no but the twinkle in his eyes suggested a desire. Seeing no ammunition close by, the desire remained unfulfilled.
As he watched, the relaxed posture shifted and he turned, listening to something at the front of the building.
Casino's retribution had melted by the time he cornered Goniff so all he had was a wet hand, a cold wet hand which he had rubbed in his enemy's face and down his shirt. That accomplished he turned to come back to the steps. Seeing the Indian the two hurried over.
"Someone's comin'." Tires on gravel and then a car door slamming, added credence to his words. All eyes went to the backdoor. Someone asked if the Warden was home. He was so this was a visitor and that was rarely good news. They trooped inside instead of waiting for the summons.
The cons were met in the hall by their leader who gestured for them to follow as he headed for the room the cons shared. That was not unusual. What was unusual was the Officer who stood beside the table with his back to the large fireplace that filled the end wall. He looked angry enough to spit nails, heavily laced with revulsion. He clearly did not relish being here. That was a look they expected, they were convicted criminals after all but though they might expect it, it did not mean they had to like it. Actor took on a look of haughtiness as he rose above such pettiness. Casino sneered a 'that's right babe'. Goniff used his innocent look and Chief hid his emotions behind his dark eyes.
Major Johns was in a particularly bad mood. He had been forced into coming here to do the briefing. Usually the lowly Lieutenant was summoned, briefed and then it was up to him to deal with the riffraff that made up his team. Today something was up at HQ and as much as he had tried he had been shut out. No one was talking. Instead he was here, shuffled out of the way, briefing the convicts at their base. The fact their quarters were better than his added to his anger.
He watched as the men began to pull out the chairs to sit down. Their lackadaisical attitude added to his ire as did the slouching and elbows on the table. This uncouth rabble was unfit to be not only in this man's army but in this fine dwelling as well. The Lieutenant's lack of correction proved he had reached the highest rank he was going to. Probably too high.
The chairs had not been placed evenly around the table resulting in one of the men, Casino, as he recalled, being squished between Garrison and Actor. The man looked around the table before saying, "If the squatter at the end would move his chair down…" Apparently Casino thought as highly of his team mates as John's did. Approving of that thought he did not consider whether the safecracker was just trying to show how tough he was.
Chief glanced in his direction, unaffected by the tone, before standing and moving his chair around closer to the Officer. The others shifted as well.
After waiting for them to settle, then another moment to let them know he was in charge, Major Johns began.
"You will proceed to Diksmuide in Belgium, where you will locate a man called Jules Devos. He is the local Post Master. It has come to our attention that he is a German sympathizer.
"A collaborator?" asked Goniff obviously pleased by this addition to his vocabulary.
"And you want us to kill'im," added Casino eying him.
"No. He has a package we want to see."
Before he could explain the slight blonde interrupted. "What kind of package? The Post Master would 'ave lots …"
"Let him finish," said the Lieutenant quietly.
The Major began to explain the size of the wooden box until Actor interrupted this time with a "Cigar box."
Damn them, thought Johns. Instead of re-evaluating Garrison's ability to work with these men in a positive direction he lumped him in with the dregs.
Taking a deep breath he continued. "The box is wrapped up in linen. You are to locate the package, Garrison is to photograph the contents without the Post Masters knowledge and return the box as you found it."
"Questions?"
"So what else's in the package?" he was projecting an air of boredom but Casino`s eyes were sharp.
Johns paused. It was none of his affair what was in it. The less these animals knew the better. Dismissively he said, "Information of interest to the War effort." If he hoped that would satisfy the criminal he was mistaken.
"What else?" The dark eyes did not waver.
Damn them, thought the Major again. He wanted to reprimand the Lieutenant for not disciplining his men but decided to close up instead. "That's all. Be ready to leave at sixteen thirty." He caught the look as the men exchanged looks.
"'Ow we going in?"
"By air." Turning to the Officer he said, "Final briefing at eighteen forty five." Relieved it was over he waited until Garrison stood, saluted and then said, "I'll see myself out."
The cons remained sitting around the table even after the vehicle door slammed, the engine roared to life and pulled away.
"I smell a rat," said Casino as he sat up straighter and pulled out a cigarette.
"Yeah," seconded Goniff.
"Thoughts?" asked Actor of their leader. The Lieutenant had sat quietly through the briefing and had remained standing after saluting.
"Get your gear ready and get some rest. I'll see about something to eat before we go." He looked to his watch before adding, "You heard what he said." He left without a backward glance.
"What's with 'im?" asked Goniff. No one answered even though each considered the question for a moment.
"Getting back to the package… There's more to it than he's saying." Casino eyed his team mates gauging their reactions. Actor looked thoughtful, Goniff hopeful and the damned Indian was playing with his damned knife. "He took too long to answer."
"So what you think is in it?" asked the resident magpie.
"I don't know, money, jewelry…"
"You know a fence near there?" asked Goniff turning to the tall Italian.
"It has been a long time. I cannot say for sure."
"'Ow much you figure?" Goniff was warming to the thought.
"We do not even know if there is anything in there," said Actor hoping to dampen the enthusiasm that seemed to be building.
"Why else would he be so cagy?"
"Maybe," said the con man as he moved over to his favorite chair, "because there is information in there that he does not trust us with."
"Like what?"
"I do not know but I am sure you could see his dislike and his distrust."
"Yeah, the bloke looked like he was sucking lemons."
Chief sniggered.
"'Ow about a trip to the Doves to celebrate?" suggested Goniff. "We got time for a pint."
"You buying?"
"Come on, you got money." Seeing the headshake the Englishman turned to Actor. He shook his head too. That, of course they knew meant only a denial to lend them money not that he did not have any.
Casino looked to the Indian and got the same response. "Whatta you mean? You gotta have money. You never spend it. I saw what you took on that last game, you bloody cheapskate. Look, I'll pay you back."
Chief had not wavered irritating the safecracker even more. Knowing he had lost he threw his parting shot, "Lousy Indian Giver."
"To be an Indian giver," said Actor, "he would have to give you something first place."
"That's just it," said Casino petulantly. "He never gives anything. What kind of buddy are you? You never get involved; you just sit there over by the damned window and play with your knife." If he saw the fire in the Indian's eye, he ignored it.
ggggg
The flight was accompanied by bombers and their escorts so they felt relatively safe at least until they began the return to the earth. From their vantage point they saw the signal fires marking the landing site begin to flicker and disappear. The last one silhouetted a hunched figure before it too faded to a red glow and was gone. Garrison who was last to arrive counted heads – he was a man short.