The firm of Huddleston & Bradford was making gold shipments once a month; there were now only 11,000 English troops in the Crimea, as opposed to 78,000 French, and most of the money was paid out directly from Paris. Thus Pierce and his compatriots were obliged to wait until April.
The next shipment was set for April 19th. The robbers at this time were getting their information on shipment schedules from a tart named Susan Lang, a favorite of Henry Fowler’s. Mr. Fowler liked to impress the simple girl with episodes reflecting his importance to the world of banking and commerce, and for her part, the poor girl—who could hardly have understood a word he said—seemed endlessly fascinated by everything he told her.
Susan Lang was hardly simple, but somehow she got her facts wrong: the gold went out on April 18th, and when Pierce and Agar arrived at London Bridge Station in time to board the April 19th train, Burgess informed them of their error. To maintain appearances, Pierce and Agar made the trip anyway, but Agar testified in court that Pierce was in “very ugly humor indeed” during the journey.
The next shipment was scheduled for May 22nd. In
order to prevent any further snags, Pierce took the rather risky step of opening a line of communication between Agar and Burgess. Burgess could reach Agar at any time through an intermediary, a betting-shop proprietor named Smashing Billy Banks; and Burgess was to get in touch with Banks if there was any change in the planned routine. Agar would check with Banks daily.
On May 10th, Agar returned to Pierce with a piece of ghastly news—the two safes had been removed from the South Eastern Railway’s luggage van and returned to the manufacturer, Chubb, for “overhaul.”
“Overhaul?” Pierce said. “What do you mean, overhaul?”
Agar shrugged. “That was the cant.”
“Those are the finest safes in the world,” Pierce said. “They don’t go back for an overhaul.” He frowned. “What’s wrong with them?”
Agar shrugged.
“You bastard,” Pierce said, “did you scratch the locks when you put on your finishing touches? I swear, if someone’s cooled your scratches—”
“I greased her lovely,” Agar said. “I know they look as a routine for scratches. I tell you, she had nary a tickle on her.”
Agar’s calm demeanor convinced Pierce that the screwsman was telling the truth. Pierce sighed. “Then
why
?”
“I don’t know,” Agar said. “You know a man who will blow on the doings at Chubb?”
“No,” Pierce said. “And I wouldn’t want to try a cross. They’re not gulled at Chubb’s.” The safemaker’s firm was unusually careful about its employees. Men were hired and fired only with reluctance, and they were continually warned to look for underworld figures who might try to bribe them.
“A little magging, then?” Agar suggested, meaning some conning.
Pierce shook his head. “Not me,” he said. “They’re just too careful; I’d never be able to slip it to them.…”
He stared into the distance thoughtfully.
“What is it?” Agar asked.
“I was thinking,” Pierce said, “that they would never suspect a lady.”
What Rolls-Royce would become to automobiles, and Otis to elevators, Chubb’s had long since been to safes. The head of that venerable firm, Mr. Laurence Chubb, Jr., did not later remember—or pretended not to remember—a visit by a handsome young woman in May, 1855. But an employee of the company was sufficiently impressed by the lady’s beauty to recall her in great detail.
She arrived in a handsome coach, with liveried footmen, and swept imperiously into the firm unattended by any escort. She was extremely well dressed and spoke with a commanding manner; she demanded to see Mr. Chubb himself, and immediately.
When Mr. Chubb appeared a few moments later, the woman announced that she was Lady Charlotte Simms; that she and her invalid husband maintained a country estate in the Midlands, and that recent episodes of thievery in the neighborhood had convinced her that she and her husband needed a safe.
“Then you have come to the best shop in Christendom,” said Mr. Chubb.
“So I have been previously informed,” Lady Charlotte said, as if not at all convinced.
“Indeed, Madam, we manufacture the finest safes in the world, and in all sizes and varieties, and these excel even the best of the Hamburg German safes.”
“I see.”
“What is it, specifically, that Madam requires?”
Here Lady Charlotte, for all her imperiousness, seemed to falter. She gestured with her hands. “Why, just some manner of, ah, large safe, you know.”
“Madam,” said Mr. Chubb severely, “we manufacture single-thickness and double-thickness safes; steel safes and iron safes; lock safes and throwbolt safes; portable safes and fixed safes; safes with a capacity of six cubic inches and safes with a capacity of twelve cubic yards; safes mounted with single locks and double locks—and triple locks, should the customer require it.”
This recitation seemed to put Lady Charlotte even further off her form. She appeared nearly helpless—quite the ordinary way of a female when asked to deal with technical matters. “Well,” she said, “I, ah, I don’t know …”
“Perhaps if Madam looks through our catalogue, which is illustrated, and denotes the various aspects and features of our different models.”
“Yes, excellent, that would be fine.”
“This way, please.” Mr. Chubb led her into his office and seated her by his desk. He drew out the catalogue and opened it to the first page. The woman hardly looked at it.
“They seem rather small.”
“These are only pictures, Madam. You will notice that the true dimensions are stated beside each. For example, here—”
“Mr. Chubb,” she interrupted, in an earnest tone, “I must beg your assistance. The fact is that my husband is recently ill, or he should be conducting this business
for himself. In truth, I know nothing of these matters, and should press my own brother into my assistance were he not at this very minute abroad on business. I am quite at a loss and I can tell nothing from pictures. Can you perhaps show me some of your safes?”
“Madam, forgive me,” Mr. Chubb said, rushing around the desk to help her to her feet. “Absolutely, of course. We maintain no showroom, as you might imagine, but if you will follow me into the workrooms—and I heartily apologize for any dust, noise, or commotion you may suffer—I can show you the various safes we make.”
He led Lady Charlotte back into the long workroom behind the offices. Here a dozen men were busy hammering, fitting, welding, and soldering. The noise was so loud that Mr. Chubb had to shout for Lady Charlotte to hear, and the good woman herself fairly winced from the din.
“Now, this version here,” he said, “has a one-cubic-foot capacity, and is double-layered, sixteenth-inch tempered steel, with an insulating layer of dried brick dust of Cornish origin. It is an excellent intermediate safe for many purposes.”
“It is too small.”
“Very good, Madam, too small. Now, this one here”—he moved down the line—“is one of our most recent creations. It is a single layer of eighth-inch steel with an inner hinge and a capacity of—” He turned to the workman: “What is the capacity?”
“This’un here’s two and a half,” the workman said.
“Two and a half cubic feet,” Mr. Chubb said.
“Still too small.”
“Very good, Madam. If you will come this way,” and he led her deeper into the workroom. Lady Charlotte coughed delicately in a cloud of brick dust.
“Now, this model here—” Mr. Chubb began.
“There!” said Lady Charlotte, pointing across the room. “That’s the size I want.”
“You mean those two safes over there?”
“Yes, those.”
They crossed the room. “These safes,” said Mr. Chubb, “represent the finest examples of our workmanship. They are owned by the Huddleston & Bradford Bank, and are employed in the Crimean gold shipments, where naturally security is of the utmost. However, these are generally sold to institutions, and not to private individuals. I naturally thought—”
“This is the safe I want,” she said, and then looked at them suspiciously. “They don’t appear very new.”
“Oh, no, Madam, they are nearly two years old now.”
This seemed to alarm Lady Charlotte. “Two years old. Why are they back? Have they some defect?”
“No, indeed. A Chubb safe has no defects. They have merely been returned for replacement of the undercarriage mounting pins. Two of them have sheared. You see, they travel on the railway, and the vibration from the roadbed works on the bolts which anchor the safes to the luggage-van floor.” He shrugged. “These details need not concern you. There is nothing wrong with the safes, and we are making no alterations. We are merely replacing the anchor bolts.”
“Now I see these have double locks.”
“Yes, Madam, the banking firm requested double-lock mechanisms. As I believe I mentioned, we also install triple locks if the customer requires it.”
Lady Charlotte peered at the locks. “Three seems excessive. It must be rather a bore to turn three locks just to open a safe. These locks are burglarproof?”
“Oh, absolutely. So much so that in two years no villain has ever even attempted to break these locks. It would be quite hopeless, in any case. These safes are double-layered eighth-inch tempered steel. There is no breaking these.”
Lady Charlotte peered thoughtfully at the safes for some moments, and finally nodded. “Very well,” she said, “I shall take one. Please have it loaded into my carriage outside.”
“I beg pardon?”
“I said I shall take one safe such as these I see here. It is precisely what I need.”
“Madam,” Mr. Chubb said patiently, “we must construct the safe to your order.”
“You mean you have none for sale?”
“None already built, no, Madam, I am very sorry. Each safe is specially built to the customer’s specifications.”
Lady Charlotte appeared quite irritated. “Well, can I have one tomorrow morning?”
Mr. Chubb gulped. “Tomorrow morning—um, well, as a rule, Madam, we require six weeks to construct a safe. On occasion we can manufacture one as quickly as four weeks, but—”
“Four weeks? That is a
month
.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“I wish to purchase a safe
today
.”
“Yes, Madam, quite. But as I have attempted to explain, each safe must be built, and the shortest time—”
“Mr. Chubb, you must think me an utter fool. Well, I shall disabuse you of the notion. I have come here for the purpose of buying a safe, and now I discover you have none to sell—”
“Madam, please—”
“—but on the contrary will construct one for me in only a month’s time. Within a month the brigands of the neighborhood will very probably have come and gone, and your safe will not in the least interest me, or my husband. I shall take my business elsewhere. Good day to you, sir, and thank you for your time.”
With that, Lady Charlotte swept out of the firm of
Chubb’s. And Mr. Laurence Chubb, Jr., was heard to mutter in a low voice, “Women.”
It was in this fashion that Pierce and Agar learned that the overhaul did not include changing the locks on the safes. That was, of course, all they cared about, and so they made their final preparations for the robbery, which they would carry out on May 22, 1855.
One week later, their plans were thrown into still further disarray. On May 17, 1855, a letter was delivered to Pierce. Written in a graceful and educated hand, it read:
My dear Sir:
I should be most greatly obliged if you could contrive to meet with me at the Palace, Sydenham, this afternoon at four o’clock, for the purpose of discussing some matters of mutual interest.
Most respectfully, I am,
William Williams, Esq.
Pierce looked at the letter in consternation. He showed it to Agar; but Agar could not read, so Pierce read the contents aloud. Agar stared at the penmanship.
“Clean Willy’s got himself a screever for this one,” he said.
“Obviously,” Pierce said. “But why?”
“Perhaps he’s touching you up.”
“If that’s all it is, I’d be happy,” Pierce said.