Hold-Up In Club

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 17, 21 January 1939, Page 9 (Supplement)

Hold-Up In Club

THE time was half an hour after noon, the place Orange Street, off Leicester' Square, London. Hiding behind its stone frontage in Orange Street is Ciro's Club, resort of society. And in its restaurant society was preparing to lunch, sipping dry martinis, ordering a tomato juice. Upstairs, on the second floor, in a room tliey call the control room, there was a different scene. Four people, two men, two women, were preparing to pay the staff. There was auburn-haired Edith Evans, the bookkeeper. On her desk was st cashbox full of wage envelopes, nearly £300 worth. Near her was the control clerk, Maurice Lorenzi. Working on the accounts was Patricia Mast'erton: And Hugo Ravine, a clerk, .was also in the room. . The door opened. The chatter died. Two men stood in the opening looking at them, their eyes ■ greedily fixed on that cashbox full of wage envelopes. In the hands of one man was a pistol, black, gleaming in the sunlight. One of the men closed the door. The other, with the pistol in his hand, cajne into the room, came straight to Lorenzi. He had a green hat on. . "Put 'em up," he said. Lorenzi glanced at the ebony ruler on his desk. The gunman followed his glance with his gun. Lorenzi sighed but put up his hands. "Come out of there," the gunman said. Lorenzi moved. The second man came over to his desk and whipped open the petty cash drawer. There was £11 in it. The money went into the man's pocket. <S> —

"Where's the rest of the money?" he said. "Come on. Where is it? We've no time to waste." f£ lt isn't here," Lorenzi said. The gunman moved threateningly. "Be quiet;" He had seen the cashbox. The second man went over to it, took out the wage packets and stuffed them in his pocket. There was no more conversation. The two men backed out. The door slammed. Ravine found his breath. "Police. Police," he yelled. He tore open the door, rushed down the stairs after the men, still yelling, "Police. Stop, thief." William Belian was at the bottom of the stairs. He is a cellai*man at the club. He heard Ravine shouting. And lie acted quickly. The two men came rushing down the stairs. "Almost sliding, they were." Belian. said afterwards. He tried to stop them,' was pushed aside, gave chase with Ravine, They ran through Orange Street, shouting .at the top of their voices, through - Whitcomb Street, out into Pall Mall. There their quarry separated, one man going down Suffolk Street and the other through Pall Mall, still with. Belian hot on his heels. _ But in Pall Mall he lost him. Belian paused. "Nobody helped me," he said. "They just stood and stared as I shouted for the police. A paper seller in Whitcomb Street did try to stop the man, but he got clear away. "Ravine and I must have chased them for nearly a mile, dodging through traffic, on and off the pavements. Within fifteen yards of them we* were. But they got away. "Both men were between 25 and 30. One was dark, the other fair." • <$>