“What the hell, Evans? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” Stewart reached out and helped Evans over the large concrete slab that had partially blocked the Arcade entrance.
As Evans had reached the far end of the Arcade, he had seen a couple of men clearing out one of the jewellery shops. What Stewart had taken to be terror in Evans’ face was in fact a mixture of fear and indecision. In the light of their torches, Evans had recognised his new associates, Jake and Billy. Should he… tell? He decided that he had no option. “Looters. A couple of them down there. In one of the jewellery shops.”
Merlin patted Johnson’s shoulder. “Come on.” Merlin led the way, Johnson and Cole behind, carefully edging down the gallery behind the light of his torch. He presumed that the thieves ahead had heard Evans’ running footfall and would be prepared for something. When they were about twenty yards from the Piccadilly end of the Arcade, his torch caught a glint of eyes. Cole hurried past him and the looters shouted something to each other. A shot rang out.
The gunfire glare blinded Merlin for a moment. He heard Johnson shout. “Tommy, are you alright?” As his vision cleared, Merlin saw that Cole had crumpled to the ground against a shop window. He was breathing heavily and as Merlin and Johnson turned their torches on him they saw a pool of blood seeping onto the floor to his left.
Merlin caught his breath. “The bastards.” Another shot rang out and the bullet hurtled just between Merlin and Johnson into the already cracked window of the shop. Then they heard the sound of racing feet. Johnson was torn for a moment between concern for the condition of his colleague and the need to chase the looters, but Merlin flew off at once. “Come on, Peter!” The men had at least twenty yards on them. As Merlin ran through the gallery exit into Piccadilly, he felt the heat of another bullet whizzing past his head. He withdrew into the cover of the Arcade and by the time he looked out again, the thieves had disappeared into the safety of the blackout. He felt for Johnson’s arm. “Bugger it!”
From off towards Picadilly Circus, they could hear the whistle of another bomb descending and they turned and hurried back down the Arcade to Cole. Johnson flashed his torch and sighed with relief when he saw that he was conscious. “I think he’s going to be alright, sir.” Cole gasped for air. “It’s my shoulder. Hurts like buggery, but I’m not a goner yet.”
Merlin felt his own shoulder ache for a second or two in sympathy. “What on earth were you thinking, charging off like that, eh? You don’t need to prove your courage to me, you know, Tommy. Anyway, can you walk? We need to get you out of here.” Cole got awkwardly to his feet with his colleagues’ help. As they struggled slowly back down the gallery, a thunderous roar indicated another bomb strike somewhere nearby and when the three men finally clambered over the rubble at the top end of the Arcade, yet another explosion sounded from somewhere in the direction of Regent Street.
“Christ, it’s coming down everywhere.” Johnson’s torch lit upon Evans’ face. He and Stewart were talking to an ARP warden a few yards from the entrance.
“Any medics to hand? I have an injured officer here.”
“What happened down there?” Stewart hurried over with Evans and the warden and helped Cole to sit down on a collapsed wall opposite the Arcade.
Merlin wiped his forehead. “The chaps you spotted, Mr Evans, had a shooter. Cole took a bullet in the shoulder. I think he’ll be fine, but he needs urgent attention. The looters unfortunately got away.”