Lemons Never Lie

'I'll remember that,' Grofield told him. 'But you remember something, too. When we see the way things work out tomorrow, you remember that I'm the only reason you aren't along with the rest of the boys. I'm saving you from a nice long prison sentence, and I may be saving your life. But don't thank me, just tell me who's going to be in what car.'

'I wasn't going to thank-'

'You're wasting time, Perry. Tell me who's going to be in what car.'

'Myers and a guy named Harry Brock and a guy named George Lanahan, they're going to be in one car, and-'

'Which one?'

'The Buick. And me and-'

'All right, that's all. What about any other vehicles? You using anything else in this caper beside the fire engine and the Buick and the Rambler?'

He shook his head. 'No, that's it.'

Grofield frowned, and considered reaching for the doorknob again. Instead, he said, 'These bombs Myers set up in the police station and the brewery, how'd he do it?'

'What do you mean, how'd he do it?'

'I mean, how'd he get into the police station? How'd he get into the brewery?'

'I don't know… I guess he just walked in.'

'Both places?'

'I don't know, I guess so.'

'That brewery's supposed to be a tough place to get into.'

'Well, he's got the bomb in there already,' Morton said. 'I know that for a fact.'

'How do you know it for a fact?'

'Because Myers said it was there, and we're going ahead tomorrow. I mean, they're going ahead tomorrow. Myers wouldn't do it if he didn't have the bomb set up, would he?'

'I guess not,' Grofield said. 'But what about the Rolls Royce?'

Could the bewilderment on Morton's face be assumed? Morton said, 'What Rolls Royce?'

Grofield believed him, really, but he thought he ought to make sure. He sighed and said, 'And you were doing so well,' and opened the door.

'I don't know about any Rolls Royce! It's the truth, it's the truth!'

Grofield shut the door again. 'I guess it is, at that,' he said. He nodded, and went over to sit down in the second chair, the one without Morton's clothes scattered all over it. 'Now,' he said, 'let me tell you something. Tomorrow, when that fire engine drives into that warehouse and you switch vehicles, the loot will go into the Buick with Myers.'

'Well, naturally,' Morton said. 'Myers is the one running the show.'

'Yes, he is. And the Rambler will drive out to that farmhouse, and stop there, and wait for the Buick, and it will never show up.'

'It'll show up. What do you think we are – mugs? We chose to see who'd be in what car. I know Lanahan, he's an old friend of mine, he wouldn't cross me.'

'That's right,' Grofield said. 'But Lanahan is going to get killed very shortly after he's out of sight of the Rambler. Because I'll tell you where that Buick is going, with Myers and Brock in it. It's going north, on a road I was on this afternoon, a back road that crosses the border without any border guard. It'll stop at a barn up there across the road from a burned-out farmhouse. Inside the barn is a black Rolls Royce. Myers and Brock – or maybe just Myers, maybe he's going to kill Brock too – will get out of the Buick, they'll take the Quebec plates off the-'

Morton started. 'How'd you-'

'How'd I know the Buick had Quebec plates? I followed it into town today from that barn I'm telling you about, after Brock brought the Rolls out there. Was that you he picked up at the hotel?'

'No, two of the other guys. You been following us around all the time?'

'Just today.' Grofield glanced at his watch. 'Yesterday, I mean. Anyway, they'll put the Quebec plates on the Rolls, and probably at that point Myers will kill Brock. Unless he fancies Brock playing chauffeur for a day or two. They'll head north, they'll go to Montreal or Quebec, and if by any unusual chance they are stopped they'll have solid Canadian papers, and the loot will be stashed in the spare tire or under the rear seat or someplace like that.'

'They're going to cross us,' Morton said, finally beginning to believe it.

'That's right. And believe me, I think I've probably been in more of these operations than you, the cops will be all over that farmhouse hideout before sundown tomorrow.'

'But they'll talk,' Morton said. 'None of us are real pros, except Myers and Brock. Those guys won't keep quiet, they'll tell everything they know about Myers. He doesn't dare cross them.'

'I hadn't thought of that,' Grofield said. 'In that case, I imagine Myers will be leaving another of his time bombs behind.'