Best Kept Secret

preferred to use a chain, but the colonel had stressed that the sculpture was in no circumstances to be
damaged.
    Once the engineer was certain that the rope was secure, he tied a double reef knot and held the noose up to indicate that he was ready. The colonel lowered the crane’s steel chain until
the hook on its end was inches from the top of the open crate. The engineer grabbed the hook, placed the noose over it and gave a thumbs-up.
    The colonel took up the slack before he began to raise the statue inch by inch out of the crate. First, the inclined head appeared, its chin resting on the back of a hand, followed by the torso
and then the muscular legs, and finally the large bronze mound on which
The Thinker
sat, contemplating. The last thing to appear was the wooden base to which the bronze statue was fixed.
Once it had cleared the top of the crate, the colonel slowly lowered it until it was suspended a couple of feet above the ground.
    The foundry worker lay on his back, slid under the statue and studied the four butterfly screws. He then took a pair of pliers from his tool bag.
    ‘Hold the damn thing still,’ he said.
    The engineer grabbed
The Thinker
’s knees and the carpenter held on to his backside in an attempt to keep the statue steady. The foundry worker had to strain every sinew in his
body before he felt the first screw that held the wooden base in place give just half an inch, and then another half, until it came finally loose. He repeated the exercise three more times, and
then suddenly, without warning, the wooden base fell on top of him.
    But that wasn’t what grabbed the attention of his three colleagues, because a split second later, millions of pounds in pristine five-pound notes came pouring out of the statue and buried
him.
    ‘Does that mean I can collect my war pension at last?’ asked the carpenter as he stared in disbelief at the mountain of cash.
    The colonel allowed himself a wry smile as the foundry worker emerged, grumbling, from under the mountain of money.
    ‘Afraid not, Crann. My orders couldn’t have been clearer,’ he said as he climbed out of the crane. ‘Every last one of those notes is to be destroyed.’ If an SAS
officer had ever been tempted to disobey an order, surely it was then.
    The engineer unscrewed the cap on the petrol can and reluctantly splattered a few drops over the coals in the brazier. He struck a match, and stood back as the flames danced into the air. The
colonel took the lead and threw the first £50,000 on to the brazier. Moments later, the other three reluctantly joined him, hurling thousands upon thousands into the insatiable flames.
    Once the last bank note had been burnt to a cinder, the four men remained silent for some time as they stared at the pile of ashes and tried not to think about what they had just done.
    The carpenter broke the silence. ‘That’s brought a totally new meaning to the phrase “money to burn”.’
    They all laughed except the colonel, who said sharply, ‘Let’s get on with it.’
    The foundry worker lay back down on the floor and slid under the statue. Like a weightlifter, he picked up the wooden base and held it in the air, while the engineer and the carpenter guided the
little steel rods back through the four holes in the bottom of the statue.
    ‘Hold firm!’ shouted the foundry worker, as the engineer and carpenter clung on to the sides of the base while he replaced the four butterfly screws, first with his fingers, then
with the pliers, until they were all firmly back in place. Once he was satisfied they couldn’t be any tighter, he slid out from under the statue and gave the colonel another thumbs-up.
    The colonel pushed the up lever in his cab and slowly raised
The Thinker
high into the air, until it hovered a few inches above the open packing case. The engineer climbed the ladder as
the colonel began gently lowering the statue, while Captain Hartley guided it safely back into the crate. Once the rope had been removed from under
The Thinker
’s arms, the carpenter
replaced the engineer on the top step and nailed the heavy lid back in place.
    ‘Right, gentlemen, let’s start clearing up while the corporal is going about his work, then we won’t waste time later.’
    The three of them set about dousing the fire, sweeping the floor and returning everything that had already served its purpose to the back of the van.
    The ladder, the hammer and three spare nails were the last things to end up