Sowerbutt's Opportunity

Grinning, Nero grabbed a couple of his favourite chocolate bars. “It is like this, Mr Sorbay. I heard something last night that might earn us a couple of bob.

“I was visiting a lady friend up in town. She has a room in one of those big buildings overlooking Soho Square that the Malts have taken over.
“I could hear a couple of them talking outside the door, I came up the fire-escape on the quiet like, Mr Sorbay. One of them said he was working for the Post Office.
“Said he was sent down to the aerodrome at Croydon the other day to help out with some mailbags for the banks. They still use it for a few civvy flights. Said to his mate he should have taken a shooter with him and some lads. The bags were full of bank notes.
“The bags are brought down by the Brylcreem Boys on one of those Dragon planes, he said. The Brylcreem Boys are armed, but the bags are dumped on a cart and taken to some storage place. No security, just an old caretaker. No hurry or anything. The Malt and his driver load the bags into their Post Office van and drive them back to a sorting office in the city and then they are delivered to the banks. The driver told him they used to have a police escort, but the boys in blue are so short-staffed these days.”
“Well, well, Nero, an interesting tale. We had better act quick smart before your Malt spreads the story too far.”
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