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tions outweighed the boredom。 Bats frightened him。 He remembered his wedding…night and the bat that had somehow found its way into the bridal chamber。 His wife had nearly had hysterics and their marriage had not been consummated for a further twenty…four hours。 In his day； few people had sex before marriage； particularly within the respectability of banking circles。 He had waited a day longer than most。
But the bats couldn't get down here into the Credit House。 The Treasury was impregnable。
The afternoon wore on； hot and stuffy。 Lutton finished checking a tray of ￡40；000…worth of five…pound notes； and went and fetched another one from the chief clerk's desk。
Mondays were always exceptionally busy。 That meant a late finish； but Joe Lutton didn't mind。 The overtime money would be useful。
He had counted the first bundle of fivers and re…banded them； when Don Lucas； a young apprentice…clerk； gave a shout from the other end of the room where he was working at a long trestle table。
'Hey！ What's this？'
Heads turned。 Something crouched on the floor； small and furry； tiny eyes glancing about it。
'It's a mouse；' somebody said。
'Don't be stupid。' Lucas backed away。 'Mice don't have wings。 It's a bat！1
'A bat！'
There was a momentary shocked silence。 Clerks turned and stared。 They couldn't believe it。 But the proof was squatting there； and even as they looked it took off； flew up to the ceiling； and alighted upside down on a supporting steel girder。
'Oh； God！' Lutton paled。
The Chief clerk； a man only a year or two younger than Lutton； picked up the internal telephone and dialled a single number。
'Sorry to bother you； Mr Baxterdale。' His voice was humble； apologetic； trying to hide his fear。 'No； no trouble really。 Only 。 。。 only there's 。。。 there's a bat in the Credit House！'
Lutton sweated。 He hated the chief clerk for his cringing personality。 Sorry to bother you； Mr Baxterdale； he mimed his superior mutely to himself； there's only a bat in the Credit House and we could all be bloody well dead by this time tomorrow。 Of course； we don't want to interrupt the work； and if you like we'll keep it in here 。。。
Baum； the Credit House chief clerk replaced the receiver； cleared his throat； and looked round at the others。
'Er；。。 Mr Baxterdale says he'll ring the Area Inspector。 Nothing to worry about。 Just carry on。 Don't anybody take any notice of it。'
Lutton sweated profusely。 This new system of locking the grilles from the outside； the keys being held in the Treasury office by two authorised holders； had disturbed him right from its implementation。 Suppose there was a fire and the intersecting corridors were cut off by a wall of flames？ Those in the Credit House would die。 But this was a thousand times worse。 Death hung perched on that beam。 It only had to touch one of them； so the papers said； and that would be that。
Lucas picked up something from the table； moving slowly。 It was an old wooden cylindrical ruler that dated back to the early days of banking； as heavy and as lethal as the truncheons carried by the bullion van crews。 A Treasury antique that was still in use。
All eyes were on him。 Everybody knew exactly what he was going to do； and nobody made a move to stop him。
The childish streak in him had often prompted reprimand from Baxterdale。 The young clerk was always flicking rubber…bands at his colleagues； and then immediately assuming an air of innocence。 His aim was uncanny。 They hoped it would be so now。
Lucas was poised to strike； arm back； ruler clenched firmly。 Those watching held their breath。 Then he struck； and it seemed impossible that he could miss。
Wood clanged on steel； the whole length of the girder reverberating。 The bat had moved at the last second with the speed of a house…fly accustomed to dodging swats。 It shot upwards； hit the ceiling； dropped to the floor； and then took off at an angle of forty…five degrees。
Clerks accustomed to the tranquillity of life in the Credit House panicked。 Money spilled on the floor as they sought cover behind desks； but their safety was as perilous as that of the car driver who is suddenly attacked by an irate wasp in his vehicle。 The bat zoomed crazily to and fro。
The chief clerk shouted in alarm； striking futile blows as the creature flew at him； seemed to bee caught in the threads of his shirt and then freed itself。 Lutton saw it heading in his direction。 It passed him with a yard to spare； somersaulted； turned in mid…flight； and on its return journey glanced off the back of his neck。 He fell to his knees。
It headed directly toward the steel grilles。 There was a brief sigh of relief from the clerical staff。 The bars were four inches apart。 Plenty of room for it to pass through。 It caught one of its wings as it did so； and tumbled to the concrete floor on the other side； stunned。
'Jesus！' someone breathed。
They heard footsteps and voices echoing down the corridor。 Baxterdale was ing with the key holders to release them from this vault of death。
'It's there； sir！' Don Lucas called out shrilly； pointing to the inert bat as Baxterdale reached the grille door。
'What？' Baxterdale stopped abruptly； the two men at his heels bumping into him。 'Where？'
There！'
As Baxterdale； a plump； bald…headed man； finally saw the bat； it stirred； shuffled forward； and took off again…back through the bars and into the Credit House。
Screams and confusion came from within the enclosed area。 There was no logic in the creature's behaviour。 It flew madly back and forth； this time seeming impervious to the obstacles which it struck； hitting the bars again but not passing between them。
'Let us out！ For Christ's sake let us out！' someone yelled。
But Baxterdale and his panions were retreating back up the corridor； glancing over their shoulders as they ran。
'Bloody well unlock the doors！'
Baxterdale reached his office； and his flabby hand was trembling as he picked up the receiver and dialled the Area Inspector's number。 The line was engaged。 He dropped the telephone back on to its cradle。
'Hadn't。。 。hadn't we ought to go back down there？' one of the keyholders asked。
'No。' the Treasury Chief shook his head。 'You know the instructions issued to the public regarding these bats as well as I do。 The stairway door is closed。 The bat can't get beyond the lower…basement level。 As soon as we can get hold of the Area Inspector he'll report it to the police。'
'Can't 。 。 。 can't we ring the police？' the second key…holder gulped。
The Bank's rules；' Baxterdale reminded him； glowering。 The police are never to be involved without consulting the Area Inspector first。 You know that。'
Baxterdale tried the number again。 It was still engaged。 Somewhere； far away and muffled； they could hear the screams of the trapped clerks。
It was the rush hour。 People were hurrying； bustling； jostling