The Dark House.

THE DARK HOUSE

Bennie Rock and Pete Towers pulled up onto the forecourt of the garage. Bennie, the taller of the two, got out and began to fuel up the Ford Transit van. His fat friend lent out of the window.

            “Oi, Bennie, look.”

            Bennie released his finger on the pump. “What? Can’t you see I’m trying to fill the van?”

            “I know, but look, over there.”

            Bennie looked to where Pete was pointing. On the opposite side of the road was a scraggy looking tramp. His matted hair and beard were sodden from the rain, which continued to fall. His clothes too were soaked, and the soles of his shoes were gone. Bare feet dragged the puddles. He walked up a garden path of a house which looked almost as dilapidated as he was. Taking a key out from the folds of his grimy jacket on a piece of string, he opened the door, squeezed inside and promptly shut it.

             “Well, what d’you make of that then, Bennie?”

            “Nothin’,” Bennie grumbled, and carried on fuelling the van.

            “I think we should pay him a visit, know what I mean?”

            “Why?” Bennie asked, not looking at him, but at the meter on the pump. “He’s a tramp, nothing more.”

            “He’s minted.”

            Bennie looked round. “Yeah, course he is. Hey, look there’s Elvis over there.”

Pete looked across the forecourt as Bennie walked off to pay laughing as he did.

Upon returning, Pete started up again. “You know, you never listen to me.”

“Give me one good reason why I should?”

“Look, I know I’ve made a few mistakes ...”

“A few?”

“Okay, Okay. But I’m right about this job. D’you know who that bloke was?”

“No, Pete, enlighten me.”

“That man is Edward Dark.”

Bennie shrugged. “So.”

“Edward Dark’s father was Crighton Dark, the famous jewel maker and silversmith. They’ve lived in that house for years, people round here say it’s loaded with all kinds of good stuff worth nicking. They also say he’s a millionaire. The family didn’t trust banks, see, kept it all stashed away in that house.”

“So, they stuffed it all into their mattresses? Is that what you’re sayin,’ Pete? ‘Cus, if you are, that’s almost as stupid as you are.”

“Of course it ain’t stuffed into mattresses, but I’ll bet you twenty quid they’ve got a safe. Even if we can’t get him to open it, we can take it back to our place and bust it open.”

“Look at the place though, it’s a dump.”

“That’s the beauty part of it, Bennie, who’s gonna think it’s a goldmine?”

“There’s some logic in that, somewhere. Okay then, but if you’re wrong, I’ll seriously kick your fat ass into next week.”

“I ain’t, Bennie.”

Bennie turned the key and drove off the forecourt.

“Bennie, if we take Bate’s Lane, we can cut around the back of Dark’s house unseen.”