Short Story Journey

One cold morning, just as the sun had risen above High Street, two men, both in black, dashed hurriedly out of the Merlin Bank. One of the men wore a beard, and both were trim and fit looking, in their late thirties or early forties. They both carried briefcases, from which large denominations of banknotes were poking out; the first man was also carrying a sack with rectangular shaped packets silhouetted against the side; he called out to the one following, “Get a move on, Gilbert; we will miss our connection at the end of Thief Road, and then, dear fellow on to Cadiz.”

“It’s all right for you to say hurry, Harry, but you are forgetting, methinks, perchance, that you obliged me to carry the sack we filled with the numismatic collections, no? Why do we have to meet an old omnibus, anyway? We’ll still be conspicuous, it seems to me, leader most high.”

“Stop your sarcastic whining, and hurry,” Harry repeated authoritatively, magnetically, irresistibly.

As they ran along the road towards their parked car, a green sedan, a policeman, wearing a gown decorated with stars and quarter moons, and eating a large, saucy pie, called out, “Stop! Why have you come from the Merlin Bank? Why are you running? I believe you are acting suspiciously. Stop, immediately!”

One of the men said, “By golly, Harry, the police. We must hurry! He is obviously a very clever policeman. He is very good at deducing?”

“Yes, we must. I think it is the incredibly clever Constable Julius Brown!”

“Constable Brown? Julius Brown, who wears a magician’s gown?”

“Indeed, yes. And when he sees the likes of us, he also wears a serious frown. He would enjoy sending us down. So clearly, Gilbert, it would be unpleasant to be arrested, especially as we now have so much money to spend, Gilbert.” So the two thieves hurtled athletically towards their parked vehicle. Harry jumped into the driver’s seat, and revved up the engine. Gilbert took the passenger’s a seat and held onto the