‘I’m expecting a shipment,’ Donohue went on confidently, ‘about the middle of December. I wanted to explore the possibility of converting the merchandise to ready cash. As soon as possible after delivery.’
We were both standing before that battered desk, two naughty students brought to the principal’s office. Mr Asa Coe slurped his tea, watching us over the rim of his mug.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Uh, precious gems,’ Donohue said. ‘Set and unset. A large shipment.’
‘Large?’
‘Yes, sir. Very large.’
‘Ten,’ Mr Coe whispered.
‘No, sir,’ Black Jack said. ‘Thirty percent. Best quality. Top-notch.’
The ancient sighed. Or maybe he was just blowing on his brew to cool it.
‘We’ll see,’ he said.
‘But you’re interested?’ Donohue persisted.
‘We’ll see,’ Coe repeated. ‘When you got, you call.’
‘All right, sir,’ Jack said. ‘That’s good enough for me. We’ll be in touch.
So far I hadn’t said a word. I didn’t think Asa Coe had even glanced at me since we entered his office. But as we were leaving, at the door, he called softly, ‘Girlie.’ I turned back.
‘Girlie,’ he asked in his breathy voice. ‘The titties — they’re yours?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Didn’t think so,’ he whispered, and put his shiny beak back down into his tea cup.
I thought the whole interview had been a disaster, but Jack didn’t agree. On the drive back uptown, he explained:
‘The guy’s interested. That’s the important thing; he didn’t say no. Naturally he’s not going to say yes and set a final price until he sees what we’ve got. Winowitz told me what to expect.’
‘But that office! Empty. Hardly looks like a guy with enough bucks to swing a big deal.’
‘You expect him to keep records, Bea? It’s all in his head. When we’ve got the stuff, I’ll call again and he’ll set up a meet. I tell you, he’s interested.’
We had other things to do. Hymie Gore and the Holy Ghost had been touring midtown Manhattan in Hymie’s battered Dodge, looking for a place where the car switch could be made after the robbery. They had located a padlocked garage in a row of abandoned tenements, stores, and small warehouses west of Ninth Avenue on 47th Street. The entire blockfront was empty, sheet metal nailed over the windows. It was scheduled for demolition, to be replaced by a high-rise apartment house. ‘No Trespassing’ signs were everywhere, and at night the area was patrolled by a security guard with an attack dog.
‘We timed him,’ the Holy Ghost said. ‘He makes his rounds on the hour. Takes him ten, twelve minutes. Then back to this storefront that’s still open. They’re using it like for an office. He sits in there watching this little TV set he’s got. Then, on the hour, he makes his walk again.’
‘Yeah,’ Hymie Gore said. ‘On the hour.’
We drove slowly down the block, the two heavies in the back seat of my rented Ford.
‘There it is,’ the Ghost said. ‘On your right. See? Two steel doors. They’re padlocked. A five-and-ten lock. I could spring that with a toothpick.’
Looks good to me,’ Donohue said. ‘But across the street, on the left, people still living in those slums?’
‘Oh sure,’ the Holy Ghost said. ‘But this time of year they ain’t hanging out their windows. And they see us at the garage, who’s going to scream? A garage door opens, a car pulls in. At night this is. Or early in the morning. So it’s a car going into a garage. Big deal. No one’s going to panic. They figure it’s done so openly, the watchman’s got to know — right? And after we hit, we come back in broad daylight to make the switch. So if anyone sees, so what? Even if they call the blues, we’ll be in and out so slick, what can they tell?’
‘Mud on the license plates,’ Donohue said.
‘Of course,’ the Ghost said. ‘What else? Well? What do you think?’
‘The location’s good,’ I said. ‘With luck, maybe ten minutes from the hit.’
‘Fifteen tops,’ Donohue said, nodding.
During dinner at Dick’s apartment that night, I gave Dick a report on the Great Coverall Scam, the meeting with the Wall Street fence, and the discovery of the abandoned garage on West 47th Street. He listened closely.
‘You know, Jannie,’ he said slowly, poking at his bowl of stew, ‘I really think this thing could come off. I mean, if we were actually going to pull it, I think it would have a very, very good chance of succeeding. Don’t you?’
‘Damned right!’ I said emphatically.
‘Yes,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Jannie, have you given any thought to how we’re going to get out of this? I mean, when do we disappear?’
‘I want to stay in until the last minute. We’ll have like a final briefing the night before. Then you and I will just fade away. I can leave my Bea Flanders junk at the Hard-on — I’ll never be using it again. We just won’t be there when the show is supposed to get on the road that Friday morning.’
‘And what happens then? Jan, you don’t suppose they’ll try to pull it without us?’
‘No way!’ I said. ‘First of all, they’ll be spooked by our nonappearance on Friday morning. They’ll think we’ve chickened out, and they’ll start wondering if maybe we’ve gone to the cops. Also, they’re counting on my rented Ford
and your VW in that 47th Street garage to make the switch of the loot. No, I don’t think we have to worry about them trying it on their own. The whole plan will be destroyed when we don’t show up.’
He nodded. He shoved his half-finished plate of stew away. He drained his glass of burgundy, then refilled it and topped mine off.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘In a way. Aren’t you, Jannie?’
‘That we’re not going through with it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sure, I’m sorry. In a way.’
SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT
‘Bea, there’s something you and me have got to talk about,’ Jack said. ‘We been putting it off, but we’re getting close now, and we should get it settled.’
‘The split?’ I said.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘The split.’
We had been trailing the Bonomo van all night, doing a final check on its Friday route and timing.
‘You’ve had expenses,’ Jack said. ‘Picking up our drinking tabs, the gas for your car. The masks, tape, rope, and so forth. So all that comes off the top.’
‘Forget it,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t amount to that much.’
‘No, I won’t forget it,’ he said stubbornly. ‘I figure a couple of C’s should cover you. Right?’
‘More than enough,’ I said. ‘Too much.’
‘Let’s call it two C’s. That comes off first. Then I figure the two muscles we bring in at the last minute, we can get them for five big ones each.’
‘They’ll sign on for that?’
‘Sure they will,’ Donohue said. ‘And be happy to get it. So that’s another ten thousand off the top. Now, out of what’s left, Hymie Gore and the Holy Ghost get ten percent each.’
‘In rocks,’ I reminded him.
‘Correct. In rocks. So their share will be approximate. But that leaves like eighty percent for you, me, and Fleming. I figure thirty-five percent for you — after all, it was your idea — and twenty five for me, and twenty for Fleming. How does that sound, Bea?’
I sat awhile in silence, as if I were giving his proposal careful consideration.
