Lemons Never Lie

Grofield, on his way by the front desk, stopped and looked at the clerk, feeling suddenly very wary. Barnes' car radio hadn't reported the robbery as yet, but it was ten minutes to three and the alarm should be going out pretty soon. And thirteen thousand dollars was in the attachй case dangling from his right hand.

He moved toward the desk, walking as though his shoes were glass. 'Yes?'

'There have been several calls from your wife.'

Grofield frowned. 'My wife?' Mary knew where he was, naturally, and what name he was using, but she didn't know what the job was or when it would take place.

The clerk had some small papers in his hands. 'She called first this morning at nine o'clock, and several times during the day. She wishes you to phone her at once, and she says it is urgent.'

There was some sort of undertone in the clerk's voice, something beyond what the words were saying. Grofield, his mind involved in the robbery, took longer than he should have to realize what it meant. 'Yes, thank you,' he said. 'I'll call her.' And then he noticed the little smile on the clerk's face, and finally got it; the clerk thought the felony that had been taking place today and tonight was adultery, not larceny. Grofield almost grinned back, but controlled himself. Let the clerk think what he wanted; any explanation of Grofield's eighteen hour absence other than the true one was fine.

He started away again, and then looked back to say, 'I'll probably be checking out in the morning.'

The clerk's smile – smirk – widened. 'Yes, sir,' he said.

Grofield took the elevator up, hurried down the hall to his room – had something happened to Dan? because of Dan? – and when he walked in Myers waved a gun at him and smilingly said, 'Hello, there, Alan. Nice to see you again.'

Grofield shut the door. Myers was smiling, pleased with himself, but the guy with him looked mean- tempered and stupid. He had a gun in his hand, too, but he hardly needed one. He was huge, with the body of a heavyweight and the head of a cabbage. He said, 'About time the bastard got here.'

'I'm sure Alan's been busy,' Myers said pleasantly. 'Planning, planning. A caper is not that easy a thing, Harry. By the way, Harry Brock, Alan Grofield; Alan, Harry. Sit down, Alan.'

Grofield put the briefcase on the floor at the foot of the bed and sat down on the bed. Myers was in the room's only chair, and Harry Brock was standing, leaning against the wall beside the window.

Grofield said, 'What now, Myers?'

'A visit, Alan. Why be ungracious? In the first place, I owe you thanks. You talked sense to that idiot Leach. If it hadn't been for you, he might still have been carting me around, like the ancient mariner with his albatross. So I thank you.'

'You're welcome,' Grofield said, sourly. He was thinking he'd made a mistake with Dan, he should have kept his mouth shut.

'Besides which,' Myers said, 'I must admit I know you're involved with a caper somewhere around here. And you could use a couple of good men, couldn't you?'

Grofield thought, I wouldn't use you to collect tickets. What he said was, 'What about that job in Los Angeles? The three old cons and their tunnel?'

Myers grinned in surprise. 'Did you go for that one, too? I must be a better bar than I thought.'

Harry Brock said, 'What three old cons? What tunnel?'

Grofield said, 'Myers' last partner, the one whose throat he slit, told him about a-'

Smoothly, Myers said, 'That will be enough of that, Alan. There's no point telling Harry silly stories to try to drive a wedge between us. We're partners, and we know we're useful to each other. And we also know we could be useful to you. Tell us about this caper of yours. When's it going to be?'

'It isn't,' Grofield said. 'It's a washout.'

'Oh, nonsense. You've stayed here a week already. You wouldn't do that unless you were planning a job. Where's the job to be?'

The one advantage Grofield had was that Myers knew most jobs were planned far from where they would take place. Myers would be unlikely to guess that this job was right here in the St. Louis area, and was already done.

Tell him a lie? Certainly. Tell him a hundred lies. But not too easily, no point making him suspicious.

Grofield said, 'I can't tell you things like that. I have partners, they wouldn't like it.'

'Well, now you have two more partners.'

'I could bring you around tomorrow,' Grofield said. 'You could talk to them yourself. But I shouldn't tell you anything tonight.'

'Now why would they let us in,' Myers said, 'unless we already knew the whole thing? Why split with us unless the alternative was to scrub the job? Come on, Alan, you're going to tell us about it before any of us leave this room, so why not do it now?'

Brock said, 'Maybe the plans are in that case he brought in with him?'

'No,' Myers said. 'His part, perhaps, but not the whole thing. Alan isn't an organizer. Who is organizing, Alan?'

On that one he could be told the truth. 'Fred Hughes.'

'Hughes. I don't think I know him. Harry?'