DI Jack Frost 01 - Frost At Christmas

then, the night before the funeral, Harrington was on about the cash transfer. I'd no sooner informed Fawcus that he'd be required to assist with the movement of the money than he came out with his plan."
    "His plan, sir?" asked Frost, inching toward the old man.
    "He had a quick and cunning brain. He saw this as a chance to get his ten thousand, plus two thousand more. He was kindly going to allow me to keep eight thousand to repay all the money I had borrowed. It was very tempting."
    "What was his plan?"
    "A fake robbery. Fawcus and Garwood would leave for Exley, the money in a case chained to Fawcus's wrist. They wouldn't arrive. The police would find their car half-way between Denton and Exley, both men unconscious, the case and the money gone."
    "How were you going to work that?" asked Frost, inching a fraction nearer.
    Powell explained. The plan was almost childishly simple. Young Garwood, the junior clerk who would be driving the car, wasn't in on the plot so had to be convinced that the robbery had actually taken place. At a lonely part of the route the road would be blocked by a couple of wooden boxes. Nothing suspicious, but enough to make Garwood stop the car to remove the obstacles. When the car stopped, Fawcus would suddenly point and yell, "Look out - he's got a gun!" As Garwood's head turned to follow the pointing finger, Fawcus would bring the cosh down. Powell didn't like this part, but Fawcus brushed his objections to one side. "I won't hit him very hard, but when he comes round he'll believe everything I tell him."
    When Garwood came round, he would find Fawcus at his side, head bruised and unconscious, the windscreen shattered by a bullet, and the money case gone. And when Fawcus "recovered consciousness," he would tell of the masked man with the gun who had coshed them both.
    "But what would actually have happened?" asked Frost. If only the old man would look away for a fraction of a second, Frost was sure he could grab the gun. The old man gave no sign of intending to look away.
    "I'll tell you first what should have happened. The way the plan should have worked if everything hadn't gone wrong. I'd be attending the church service for Mrs. Kingsley and I'd make certain everyone saw I was there. After the service the cortege was to leave for the crematorium. Some of the mourners, like me, would be following in their own cars. I was to keep to the rear of the procession, gradually falling behind, then I'd put my foot down and speed off to the pre-arranged spot where Fawcus and the unconscious Garwood were waiting. All I had to do was unlock the chain, take the case, fire my Luger into the windscreen, then back to my own car, foot down, and rejoin the slow-moving funeral cortege as if I'd never left it. On the way I'd toss the gun and the empty, opened money case into the undergrowth for the police to find later, so even if they were on the scene within seconds there'd be nothing incriminating on me."
    "Except for the money," said Frost. "The £20,000."
    Powell looked at him incredulously. "But surely you understand, Inspector. That was the essence, the beauty of the whole ingenious plan. The money was in the last place anyone would think of looking for it. It was still in the bank. It had never left. The case was empty the whole time. The police would be searching everywhere for the armed man and the money . . . but how could they possibly find either of them? They were both non-existent. It was so clever, it deserved to succeed."
    "But if there were only two sets of keys to the case, the police would have been bound to suspect you, sir. They're not all stupid like me." And again he moved imperceptibly forward.
    "How could they suspect me? I had my keys with me all the time - before, during, and after the funeral service. According to Fawcus's version of events, the robbery would have taken place while I was still in full view of everyone in the church. I would be one hundred percent in the clear, whereas poor old Harrington at Exley was known to have a drinking problem and be slack. That is where the police would direct their inquiries about the keys."
    Frost nodded approvingly. Fawcus had thought it out well. Even super-sleuth Detective Inspector Allen would have been fooled. And if he could move just a fraction closer . . . "But something went wrong, sir?"
    Powell noticed the slight movement and there was an ominous click as the safety catch was released. Ruefully, Frost returned to his original