"Bank o' England?" he asked without much astonishment.
"No, not theft. We don't have to steal anything in this game."
He frowned. "'Old on, now, you mean I gotta knock somebody orf? Scrag 'em?"
"Not you personally, Arold. You'll be too high in the game for that."
"Ow, not that I objecks, mindjer," he hastened to assure me. "It just took me off guard, as you might say, you not lookin' lyke a basher." He grinned. "'Twouldn't be the first mug I've did in, General."
"I'll wager on that," said I under my breath, and aloud, "I told you: you'll be too important in this affair to do any murdering yourself, Arold." I prodded him in the chest with a finger. "You'll give the orders," said I.
He was deeply impressed by that. "Cripes!" he said. "Me?"
"Yes. Now listen closely, and I'll explain the whole business. Think back. Remember that purple monster you saw leaving the pub?"
"Not 'arf. Holy hell, not 'arf!"