by Arnie
Three heads nodded in unison, but only Goniff spoke. "'Ow come you get to pinch the silver then, Actor?"
Casino answered and saved the suave Italian from the painful necessity of being blunt. "'Cause if we left it to you, all we'd get would be three knives an' a spoon."
"Aww!" Goniff began to protest his innocence but a quick "Shh!" from Chief silenced him. The other three listened intently and heard what had caught Chief's attention. Footsteps: smart, sharp military precision footsteps. The Warden was on his way back.
With a practiced ease, the four cons swung into action. The plans of the Mansion were rolled up by Casino, grabbed by Goniff and thrown to Actor (who hid them within the suit of armour), while Chief replaced the usual items on the table. Everything looked normal before five seconds had passed.
Lt. Garrison entered the room to find Actor peacefully smoking his pipe while perusing "War and Peace", Goniff and Casino cheating at poker once again, and Chief carving a piece of wood with a careful intent. The officer shut the door behind him quietly as his 'con alert' went off. Too peaceful, too quiet...too innocent: they were up to something. His gaze fell on the weak link. Goniff, no con man at the best of times, was smiling endearingly at the Warden. There was definitely something going on.
"We got a mission then, Warden?" Goniff asked, his slightly guilty conscience making him talkative, as normal.
"No, not for the next four days." Garrison caught the sly smile that slid across Casino's face. Four days without a mission was always welcome, but Casino's smile suggested something more. "I can't get you a pass into London, but you can go to the Doves of an evening, if you want."
"Cor! Thanks, Warden. So...you doin' anything..." There was a pause as Goniff obviously changed what he was about to say into something innocuous. "...with your four days free?" His voice faltered slightly. It was the best he could do but he knew it sounded lame.
"Paperwork, Goniff, just paperwork." Garrison smiled at them all, then left the room. They were up to something and he knew he'd find out sooner or later.
Casino sat back in his chair, sighing with relief. "You nearly blew it!" he told the Cockney thief.
"Nah. 'E never suspected a thing!" Goniff insisted chirpily. "So, we ready or what?"
~*~
The next two days were frustrating ones for Garrison as his men appeared to be acting like angels. They followed the Sergeant-Major's orders without grumbling - they'd even managed to get through a gas mask drill without picking the lock and escaping to enjoy themselves elsewhere. If Garrison hadn't known they were up to something, he would have thought they were ill.
In the meantime, the cons' scheme was going exactly according to plan.
The third day started off just like all the others, but Garrison's 'con alert' was screeching louder than ever. Various complaints had been made about petty thefts around the Mansion. Normally he'd assume his men were guilty (and he'd be right) and he'd simply demand that they'd return the missing items. But he couldn't see why even Goniff would pinch some of the things that had gone missing. A few odd plates, vegetable dye, some old worn out sheets...the list was quite long but was filled with strange oddments that nobody minded losing. The only reason they'd been reported was because it was standard procedure to report all thefts around the Mansion.
Putting the list to one side, Garrison turned his attention back to his reports. It was his birthday but he didn't see that as a reason for leaving his work undone. True, he had been hoping for a letter from home, but the post had been irregular the last few days and he'd guessed that he might be out of luck. Sighing, he put his pen down again. Normally, Casino would be grousing about the lack of home mail (with a big family, there was usually a letter for Casino every day), but even he seemed to be quieter than usual. Garrison shook his head. He'd find out sooner or later, he knew that much about his men.
He was to find out sooner, rather than later, as a large crash from directly overhead made him jump. The sound of squabbling voices and scuffling feet followed, and he realised that his men were back to normal. Heading towards the big room, he felt aggrieved. Today, of all days, they could have behaved themselves. He threw open the door and prepared to bring his motley crew to order when he stopped and stared.
Five convicts, very correctly dressed in prisoners' uniforms, stood before him, each one saluting. Garrison frowned. The arrows on their uniforms, instead of pointing upwards, were pointing in a variety of directions, while the uniforms looked as if they'd been made out of old sheets. What on earth...and who was that? "Sergeant-Major?"
The British officer cleared his throat uncomfortably. He had no idea how he'd been talked into this, he just knew that he was regretting it. However, he'd sworn to do his part and he joined in the chorus of Happy Birthday with gusto.
"'Ere, 'e's gotta get changed before he can sit down," Goniff protested as the cheers died away. With a grin at the Warden, Goniff turned to grab an extra prisoner's uniform (briefly displaying a sign which said "This Way Up" on his back) and shoved it into Garrison's arms. "'Urry up, the kettle's boilin'!"
Garrison turned to leave the room, then stopped and took another lingering look at the five 'convicts' before him. He swallowed once or twice, then managed to say, "I'll hurry," before leaving the room.
The uniform fitted him quite well, and he took a minute to glance in his mirror before going. He grinned suddenly. Instead of pointing in different directions, all his arrows pointed to his waist, where the words "Birthday Boy" were written. He adjusted his cap to a more jaunty angle, then returned to the big room. He found, upon inspection, that the 'jail' theme was continued on the table. The tablecloth (another old sheet) was covered in arrows, while the plates had dark blue bars painted on them in vegetable dye. His mind returned to the list. Obviously, they'd gone the whole hog and stolen everything they'd needed. He had to admit, they'd done a good job.
They'd even followed through with 'prison fare' for his meal. The bangers and mash with beans was certainly different to the meals offered at the Mansion and Garrison privately thought they should be added to the menu more often. However, to finish there was a magnificent chocolate cake. Even Chief seemed to look at it with appreciation in his eyes. The Indian handed the Warden a knife and stood back to give him elbow room.
"That's certainly one hellova cake," Casino murmured in the background.
Garrison glanced up to see matching grins on the faces of his men, even Chief was smiling about something. Feeling slightly suspicious, he dug the knife into the cake and began to cut. His instinct was proved right when the knife tip came to rest against something hard. A little bit of digging and the officer was able to extract a large rectangular object from the very top layer, leaving the rest of the cake ready to be eaten.
He straightened and wiped the item down with a napkin that bore the same bar motif as the tablecloth. "A hacksaw." He nodded slightly, he could honestly say he'd never been given a hacksaw before. "Unusual."
"It's perfect," Actor declared.
Chief looked down to hide his smile, while Casino grinned openly at the Warden.
"Well, look at it this way," Goniff said, his grin rivalling Casino's. "Yer never know when yer might need one!"
~finis~
