of the briefcase.
“Yes,” said Icarus. “And I recognized your voice on the cassette tape. It was you who spoke at the end and said, ‘Save your breath on him, he’s dead.’”
Icarus returned the wallet to his pocket.
“Rjght,” said he. “Let’s have a little action.”
But before Icarus has a little action, indeed a very great deal of action, let us speak a little regarding the living hero of Icarus Smith. This is best done now, rather than later, because later it would only interfere with the action. And also because it will demonstrate just how the particular endeavours of this particular hero influence the forthcoming actions of Icarus Smith.
The hero of Icarus Smith is a master criminal, wanted in several countries.
His name was, and is, a secret known to only a few, but as his best-known pseudonym is the Reverend Jim de Licious, we shall know him by this name alone.
Jim originally worked at Fudgepacker’s Emporium, a prophouse in Brentford which supplied theatrical properties to the film and TV industries, and it was there that he got the original idea for his crimes. Fudgepacker’s hired out all kinds of stuff, mostly Victoriana, but had certain items in stock that other prophouses didn’t, and amongst these was a full-sized fibreglass replica of a post box.
This used to get hired out again and again for street scenes in movies, and the thing about it was that it looked so convincing that when filming finished it inevitably got left behind on the street corner where it had been placed while the scene was being shot and the prop man would have to go back the next day and pick it up to return it to Fudgepacker’s.
And nearly every time this happened, the prop man would find that the post box was half full of letters. You see, people thought it was a real post box and it never occurred to them that it hadn’t been there the week before, so they posted their letters into it.
This gave the Reverend Jim an idea. It was a dishonest idea, but it was a good’un. The Reverend Jim took to hiring the post box himself. He told Mr Fudgepacker that he did amateur dramatics and Mr Fudgepacker let him hire the post box at a discount. The Rev would leave the post box on a likely street corner for a few days, then pick it up in a van in the early hours of the morning and help himself to the contents.
You’d be surprised just how many postal orders and indeed how much paper money people post.
But it was a pretty heartless crime, because a lot of these postal orders and paper money were being posted off to kids as birthday presents and Jim didn’t feel too good about nicking stuff from children.
But he did see the potential.
The prop telephone box that Fudgepacker had in stock was another goody. It looked just like the real thing. It even had the phone and the coin box and everything. And nicking cash from a phonebox is hardly an evil crime, is it?
So the Rev took to hiring the telephone box and setting it up beside a row of other telephone boxes and collecting it after a few days and helping himself to the money in the cash box, which people had put in before realizing that the phone didn’t work and using one of the others. Well, he couldn’t keep hiring this week after week without rousing suspicion.
But he did see the potential.
There are other prophouses, you see. Prophouses that specialize in other items required by the film industry. There are those that hire out weapons. Those that hire out costumes. And those that hire out vehicles.
The one that hires out vehicles has an AA pickup truck in stock. It’s not a real AA pickup truck; it’s just been painted up to look like one. It does look very convincing, though.
The Reverend Jim was making quite a lot of money from the telephone box and he’d taken the lease on a lock-up garage, where he used to take the box and empty it. It occurred to him that he might branch out into car theft. And that if he was going to do so, he might as well
“Yes,” said Icarus. “And I recognized your voice on the cassette tape. It was you who spoke at the end and said, ‘Save your breath on him, he’s dead.’”
Icarus returned the wallet to his pocket.
“Rjght,” said he. “Let’s have a little action.”
But before Icarus has a little action, indeed a very great deal of action, let us speak a little regarding the living hero of Icarus Smith. This is best done now, rather than later, because later it would only interfere with the action. And also because it will demonstrate just how the particular endeavours of this particular hero influence the forthcoming actions of Icarus Smith.
The hero of Icarus Smith is a master criminal, wanted in several countries.
His name was, and is, a secret known to only a few, but as his best-known pseudonym is the Reverend Jim de Licious, we shall know him by this name alone.
Jim originally worked at Fudgepacker’s Emporium, a prophouse in Brentford which supplied theatrical properties to the film and TV industries, and it was there that he got the original idea for his crimes. Fudgepacker’s hired out all kinds of stuff, mostly Victoriana, but had certain items in stock that other prophouses didn’t, and amongst these was a full-sized fibreglass replica of a post box.
This used to get hired out again and again for street scenes in movies, and the thing about it was that it looked so convincing that when filming finished it inevitably got left behind on the street corner where it had been placed while the scene was being shot and the prop man would have to go back the next day and pick it up to return it to Fudgepacker’s.
And nearly every time this happened, the prop man would find that the post box was half full of letters. You see, people thought it was a real post box and it never occurred to them that it hadn’t been there the week before, so they posted their letters into it.
This gave the Reverend Jim an idea. It was a dishonest idea, but it was a good’un. The Reverend Jim took to hiring the post box himself. He told Mr Fudgepacker that he did amateur dramatics and Mr Fudgepacker let him hire the post box at a discount. The Rev would leave the post box on a likely street corner for a few days, then pick it up in a van in the early hours of the morning and help himself to the contents.
You’d be surprised just how many postal orders and indeed how much paper money people post.
But it was a pretty heartless crime, because a lot of these postal orders and paper money were being posted off to kids as birthday presents and Jim didn’t feel too good about nicking stuff from children.
But he did see the potential.
The prop telephone box that Fudgepacker had in stock was another goody. It looked just like the real thing. It even had the phone and the coin box and everything. And nicking cash from a phonebox is hardly an evil crime, is it?
So the Rev took to hiring the telephone box and setting it up beside a row of other telephone boxes and collecting it after a few days and helping himself to the money in the cash box, which people had put in before realizing that the phone didn’t work and using one of the others. Well, he couldn’t keep hiring this week after week without rousing suspicion.
But he did see the potential.
There are other prophouses, you see. Prophouses that specialize in other items required by the film industry. There are those that hire out weapons. Those that hire out costumes. And those that hire out vehicles.
The one that hires out vehicles has an AA pickup truck in stock. It’s not a real AA pickup truck; it’s just been painted up to look like one. It does look very convincing, though.
The Reverend Jim was making quite a lot of money from the telephone box and he’d taken the lease on a lock-up garage, where he used to take the box and empty it. It occurred to him that he might branch out into car theft. And that if he was going to do so, he might as well
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