| DECEMBER 1960. |
| THE BRIEF CASE. |
| A SHORT STORY - by J/Sig ALSOP. |
| If John Coster had thought for the rest of his life, he would never have thought he would be caught in such a strange way. To look at his small, dapper form leaving his home every morning sharp at eight, you would have taken him for what his neighbours did, a rather old, fussy man. His clothes were dark, but neat. He always carried a neat black umbrella and a fine leather brief-case. On his head, at the perfect angle sat a neat black bowler. This then was how the people of Palm Avenue saw Mr. Coster leave home every morning. |
| But John Coster was other than his appearance suggested. After leaving home he would hail a taxi at the end of the avenue and drive to the Stork Club, a club of reputed high class. When he entered, he would hand over his brief-case, hat and umbrella to the cloakroom attendant, walk directly to the bar, and order a drink. Taking this in his left hand, he would walk over to a small door at the left of the club bar and knock twice before stepping inside. |
| Here John Coster changed completely. He had done this every morning for two years, to give the impression that he was a clerk at the Stork Club. Once behind the door he would peel off his jacket, loosen his tie and get to work on a large scale map of the Westchester Central Bank. As he worked, on the morning of the twelfth of June, he was very happy. "It's ready", he murmured to himself, "Perfect in every detail". Later when he met the other three, he was pleased to tell them the job was ready. He scorned the young one's doubt, and asked if he had failed them before, and they had to admit that he never had. They had four large robberies to their credit, and each one had worked perfectly. Not surprisingly, when they made an attempt on the Westchester Central Bank that night, they had complete success. |
| That night, as every time when a large robbery was news, Milly Coster's pretty wife, was overflowing with it. |
| "There was a robbery today, John", she chattered from the kitchen, "Did you hear?" |
| Coster smiled behind his paper. "Where was it?" he asked disinterestedly. |
| "At the Westchester Bank", she replied, "And they caught one of them about an hour ago. It was on the radio. It just goes to show that crime does not pay, don't you think?" |
| Coster sat, his face rigid as his mind raced over the details of the robbery. "How did they catch him?" |
| "He was walking to the station when his case burst open and the money fell out and blew down the street. It was all in five pound notes; there was nearly ten thousand pounds. He tried to run away, but they caught him. He was called Elliott I think". |
| Coster relaxed. It was Elliott's own fault, and he would not squeal. Smiling now he stood up and poured himself a drink. "It's only fools who steal", he said, "I'm quite happy with my job at the Stork". No, Milly did not know he was a thief. She didn't know that the brief-case on the table in the hall contained his share from the Bank raid, twelve thousand pounds. |
| Just then the doorbell rang. Coster walked into the hall and opened the door. A policeman stood outside. Coster stared and suddenly felt sick. |
| "Excuse me, sir. Does Millicent Coster live here?" |
| "Yes, yes of course". |
| "I'm sorry, sir, but she was seen to take a number of articles from a store in High Street without paying for them. I have here a summons, and we would be obliged if she could come round to the station". |
| It was then that Coster saw the police car. Milly, his dear Milly, a shop-lifter - he couldn't believe it. |
| "I am sorry", she kept repeating on the way to the station. "I just couldn't help it, John". And he comforted her as best he could. After all, he thought, anyone could be subjected to temptation. He would pay the fine and it would be all over. |
| When they arrived at the station they were told to wait in a small office. A few minutes later an Inspector appeared. He asked Coster to accompany him into his office. There, on a table were many articles, some of which Coster recognised as presents that Milly had given him in past months. |
| "She admitted to other thefts, you know sir, and told us where the stuff was. Still, they all meet with temptation. You must try to be not too harsh with her. But to get to the point, sir, this case", he lifted a brief-case from the floor behind his desk, "Your wife admitted stealing it about three months ago. She says that it has your account books in it. We found it locked, so if you will open it we will pack your books in a parcel for you". |
| Coster recognised the case well, for that morning he had put into it twelve thousand pounds of the Westchester Bank's money, and as it stood on the Inspector's table twelve thousand pounds it still contained. |
| "I wouldn't put you to such bother", said Coster, trying to be calm, "I'll take it home and bring the empty case back in the morning". |
| "I'm sorry, sir", said the Inspector, "but I am afraid we can't allow stolen objects to be removed from the station". |
| Coster's thoughts raced, seeking escape, but the seconds sped and a questioning look appeared on the Inspector's face. Reluctantly, Coster's hand went into his pocket, and he held out the key to the policeman. |
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