In the weeks that followed, even Wrinkler began to wonder why he'd been worried. The Spectaculum, aside from becoming more smug and self-important than anyone had ever thought possible, contented himself with simply swanning grandly about. He might criticise a Bargie about how much it had eaten for breakfast, or call a meeting to decide what colour dress the statue of Dervish should be clothed in that week, but he conspiculously avoided any hard decisions, and seemed happy to leave the Scowerers to their routine of general lurking activities, in which he was uninvolved, being now too important and dignified to engage in them. But he must have begun to notice that none of this earned him any respect from the Scowerers. If anything he received even less than before.

As if in answer to his prayers, he had received intelligence that would enable the Scowerers to roll a Treasury coach. The temptation must have been too strong to resist. If he pulled it off it would cement his position as leader. Scowerers would talk about it for years to come.

The information was that, at a specific date and time, a Treasury coach would be leaving Treasury and travelling up the Croakumshire Road for an unspecified destination. To draw as little attention as possible, it would be stripped of insignia, appearing as a normal coach. There would be one driver in civilian clothes, and two guards inside with the bullion, purported to be in the order of half a million aurs.

Who his source was the Spectaculum would not say, as their anonymity had been part of the deal. "Someone close to the Treasury," he'd said with a smug little smile. The Spectaculum had always affected an air of mystery, so this was not out of character at least.

Some of the more seasoned lurkers, Mildew and Wrinkler amongst them, had been against the plan altogether. It sounded too good to be true. They went to see the Spectaculum as a group, but he wouldn't listen. He assured them that this was what Nick would have done. He argued that any chance of making themselves richer and more powerful than the Hectors was a risk worth taking.

He assembled a crack team to take out the coach. Lightfinger, apart from being the most gifted fine-wirer of them all, was much more agreeable than Mildew or Wrinkler, so became the lynchpin of the operation, entrusted with all the most delicate tasks. Like all great generals the Spectaculum would remain behind to co-ordinate the effort: it was important, he explained, that they each play to their strengths, his being the dispatching of others into danger.

So the plan proceeded.

A haycart was overturned on a narrow, winding section of the Croakumshire Road, beyond the toll bridge over the Yar, and where it passed through a dense wood. Two carts could barely pass each other here, and recent rain had filled the culverts on both sides, so the haycart was impassable.

The Spectaculum's intelligence had been good: the Treasury coach turned up right on schedule. The driver saw the overturned cart and pulled up. Lightfinger, disguised as a farm hand, walked over and asked for help to right the haycart. When the driver got down to help him Lightfinger relieved him of the barking iron he had hidden in his cloak, then slipped a padlock over the door of the coach, locking the two Reds inside. The driver, oblivious to all this, had helped Lightfinger right the haycart. Suddenly, half a dozen Scowerers appeared from the woods. While Lightfinger kept the barking iron pointed at him the Scowerers trussed the driver up like a chicken, and dragged him off into the woods. Then Lightfinger climbed up onto the driver's seat of the Treasury coach, and proceeded down the road, ignoring the shouts and hammerings from the cabin below.

He had turned off onto a track that descended to the riverbank. Here a barge waited. It had a false bottom. The gold was to be stowed in the space beneath, then covered with the deck, which would be stacked with chicken coops a team of Scowerers had already unloaded onto the riverbank. Two Scowerers would then pole the barge down the river to the second rendesvous point, where, under cover of darkness, the barge would enter the mouth of a large outlet drain. Once inside the drain, the bullion would be unloaded onto wheelbarrows and carted away into the underground. Even Wrinkler had to admit that the plan was good. He was astonished that the Spectaculum had come up with it himself. Mildew wondered if he had.

But none of it happened. When they reached the riverside, and Lightfinger opened the padlock on the coach door, the Scowerers waiting to pounce on the Reds inside were pounced upon themselves. A whole squad of Reds, truncheons in hand, leapt from the trees all around. The Scowerers scattered. All but Lightfinger managed to escape. He was shackled so securely that he could barely wiggle a finger.

The Treasury coach (which, as it turned out, held no bullion at all) was in fact a prison coach. So Lightfinger was transported in it, as neat as you please, to Bedlam Prison.

So who do you reckon this mysterious informant was?

Silly answers only please.