Free Two-Way Split by Allan Guthrie

climbed out. Robin joined him on the pavement. "Ready?"
    Eddie slammed the door shut. "One second." He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. The boom of the Castle's One O'Clock Gun launched a startled crow skywards. Squawking, it floated back down and perched on a window ledge two floors above the post office doorway. Eddie said, "Time."
    "After you," Robin said, tucking his thumbs inside his balaclava.
     
     
    1:00 pm
     
    Robin counted them quickly. Six men and eight women, lined up against the off-white walls of the post office. Sixteen hostages including the cashiers, which ought to be plenty. One of the male patrons was built like a concrete slab. He'd have to be watched. Still, that wasn't for Robin to worry about. Crowd control was Eddie's job. Eddie had the gun and, as he liked to point out at every opportunity, it wasn't a plastic toy.
    That particular jibe was a reference to the fact that five years ago Robin had held up a petrol station with a water pistol. He didn't remember much about the hold-up. It all happened so quickly. But he remembered crying a lot and at one point having to squirt the attendant to try to get him to move. Didn't work, though. The idiot had just stood there with his jaw hanging open. The judge seemed to find it all mildly amusing, although he never said so.
    After his release a year later from the psychiatric hospital's secure unit, Robin had had no place to stay. Carol persuaded Eddie, who'd just lost his job, to take him in and when she got out six weeks later, she joined them. For a while, it was a workable arrangement. Courtesy of their housing benefit cheques they helped pay Eddie's mortgage until he got back on his feet.
    But there's more to life than just paying the rent.
    Shortly after Carol's release Robin stole a cash register drawer from a Princes Street bookshop. He yanked it out from under the counter and fled with it under his arm, trailing dozens of wires. Carol was waiting in a car parked round the corner on Castle Street. It had been her idea, her dare. She dropped her cigarette out the window as Robin flung open the back door. He threw the drawer inside and climbed in after it. "Drive," he shouted.
    When they got home they found Eddie waiting for them. He helped prise the drawer open. It contained forty-six pounds and seventeen pence.
    That's when Eddie made his proposal.
    "There are two types of thieves," he maintained (and he should know, Robin remembered thinking. A year in the police force must have taught him something about criminals). "Those who get rich and those who get caught." He paused for dramatic effect. "Planners get rich," he continued. "Opportunists and risk-takers, like you pair of useless arseholes, get caught. And they won't send you to a loony bin this time. If you don't start using your heads you'll be in jail before you know it. Look at this." He picked up a handful of coins and dropped them back in the cash drawer. His head moved from side to side. "Look at it."
    "You're right," Carol said. "Did you have something in mind?"
    He opened his mouth, revealing his crooked front teeth. "Do you know the two ingredients present in most successful robberies?" They didn't.
    "Hostage-taking," Eddie told them. "That's number two. You have any problems with that?"
    Robin looked at Carol. She shook her head and looked at Eddie. She said, "What's number one?"
    Leaning over, he stared into Carol's eyes. In a quiet voice he said, "Violence."
    And he was right. The first post office robbery had been a long time in the planning, but it was worth it. Nine months later, Robin hoped the second would run as smoothly.
    Stooping to fish in his bag, he located the wedge and slid it under the door. Next he found the card, flipped it over and pressed the Blu-tacked edges against the small, solitary windowpane. From the outside the sign read: "Closed for lunch due to ill health. Back at 1.30." He stuck his hand in his pocket, fumbled for his knife and popped the button on the