6. Safe Cracker

“We used to get paid cash y’know, Lucifer. Everyone did.”
“I knew that, Scorcher.”
“You know what being paid with cash meant, though?”
“No. I don’t.”
“It meant that factories needed a safe to keep all t’brass in.”
“Well, I sort of knew that too…”
“Ah, but did you know that they had to keep getting new safes though? Them safe crackers are clever bastards, tha knows. Always keeping up with the latest designs. Working out how to crack ‘em.”
“I imagine they would have to.”
“Right. Any road, the last place I worked at had just got the latest safe delivered. Top o’the range it were. Brushed steel, big metal wheel on it, four combination locks. It weighed two tonne. They had to take out a window and winch it in with a fucking crane! It came with it’s own crew to fit the thing.
“They were just finishing off when I thought I’d take a wander up and have a nosey. This crew of lads were up there own arses, boasting about this safe and how bloody good it were. I took a look at it. ‘I reckon I could crack that,’ I says.
“ ‘Fuck off,’ they say. ‘You never can!’
“They reckoned that safe crackers had been paid to have a go at it, the military had had a go at it, the coppers had had a go at it. None of ‘em had managed to crack that safe.”
“What did you say, Scorcher?”
“Well I says to ‘em, ‘you lads lock it up then, and fuck off for a coffee.’ That’s what they did. They came back ten minutes later, and Guess what?”
“I can’t possibly guess, Scorcher.”
“I had both doors off the safe, and were smoking a fag without having broken a sweat. All hell broke lose. I just walked off, leaving ‘em to guess.”
“Go on then, Scorcher. How did you do it?”
“The daft fuckers had put the hinges on the outside. A couple of smart taps with a lump hammer on the hinge pins and the door came off easier than our lasses knickers.”
“You’re in the wrong trade, Scorcher.”
“Reckon I should have been a safe cracker, Lucifer?”
“Something like that…”

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