McNally's caper

‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘Two adjoining doubles with empty rooms on both sides. Numbers 8 and 9.1 signed us all in.’

‘Our real names?’ I asked.

‘You kidding?’ he said. ‘I paid in advance. No questions asked.’

‘How do we divide up?’ I said, trying to keep it casual.

‘I figured you and Hymie Gore could share Number 8,’ he said, just as casually. ‘Don’t worry about a thing, babe. He’ll be a perfect gentlem an. I guarantee it.’

‘But he snores!’ I cried.

‘Naw,’ Donohue said. ‘Just breathes heavily, that’s all. You’re so worn out, you won’t hear a thing.’

It didn’t make me feel any better to know the son of a bitch was right.

‘And you and Dick share Number 9?’ I said.

‘Just for tonight. We’ll switch around. Listen, this isn’t fun-and-games time. All we want is a good night’s sleep.’

‘Sure,’ I said.

‘Here,’ he said, fishing in his pocket. ‘Something I picked out of the take. In case the neighbours get curious tomorrow. I think you better wear it from now on.’

It was a gold wedding band, braided, very delicate and very lovely. He took my left hand, slipped it on the third finger. It fit loosely but well enough.

‘Does this mean we’re married?’ I asked him.

I saw his brilliant grin.

‘I like you, babe. You’re all right. Now let’s wake up the clunks, get out of sight and into bed.’

‘Two beds in each room, I hope.’

‘What else?’

We took the suitcases and guns in with us. There wasn’t a single lighted room in the motel except ours. And we were all in bed, our lights out, door locked and chained, within ten minutes. I was asleep in eleven.

Jack was right: Hymie Gore was a perfect gentleman, even if his undershorts had small rosebuds printed on them. And if he had any plans to rape a sleeping woman, that was his problem.

I wish I could tell you that I had nightmares of a knife in my ribs, people shooting guns at me, dying men murmuring, ‘Bullshit.’ But the truth is, I had a deep, dreamless, wonderful sleep and awoke a few minutes after 11:00 a. m. on Saturday morning, knowing exactly where I was and what had happened.

Hymie Gore was gone, and when I peeked outside I saw the car was gone, too. It never occurred to me that I had been deserted. I assumed they had left for some good reason, and didn’t worry about it. I don’t know why I had such faith in Jack Donohue, but I did. Maybe that’s why he was such a successful bunko artist.

I took a hot shower and realized I didn’t have a toothbrush or toothpaste. That I worried about. I was just finishing dressing when there was a knock on the outside door.

‘Who?’I called.

‘Dick.’

I let him in. We looked at each other.

‘How did you sleep?’ he asked.

‘Rocksville,’ I said. ‘You?’

‘Babe in arms,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d have nightmares, but I didn’t.’

‘Same here. Where’d they go — you know?’

‘Jack said he wanted to scout around with Hymie. I offered to go along, but he said to stay close. Guard the jewels and guns. We could make a run for it now, Jannie — if you want to.’

‘Do you?’

‘No. Do you?’

‘No. We’ve crossed the Rubicon. What are they scouting around for — did Jack say?’

‘Not exactly. To buy some stuff, he said. He made out a list.’

‘I hope a toothbrush was on it.’

It was. Donohue and Gore returned around noon with two new suitcases filled with purchases: toothbrushes, toothpaste, aspirin, razors, shaving cream, cologne, powder, two bottles (scotch and vodka), cigarettes, candy bars, boxes of crackers, instant coffee, a quart thermos jug, etc., etc.

‘Like a picnic,’ I said. ‘You pick up any newspapers?’

‘ Yeah,’ Hymie Gore said. ‘Show them, Jack.’

They had bought the Enquirer. We were on the front page: ‘$1M NY Gem Heist.’ The brief story said that New York police were investigating ‘several leads.’

‘One million?’ I said. ‘Who they kidding?’

‘The cops,’ Donohue said. ‘You didn’t expect Brandenberg and Sons to admit they were holding two mil in stolen ice, did you? Y’know, I got to laugh every time I think of it. Crooks ripping off crooks. What a switch! Well, let’s get some breakfast. We found a McDonald’s right down the road.’

It was our first hot meal in I couldn’t remember how many hours, and we all had two helpings of everything. Except Hymie Gore: he had three. We sat in a corner booth. I noticed that Jack Donohue positioned us so he could watch the door. Maybe he thought crooks robbing crooks was funny, but he wasn’t playing it for laughs.

We were finishing our coffee when he asked us how much cash we were carrying. I had a little over a hundred. Dick had about forty. Hymie had sixty-five. Jack said he was holding almost two grand, proceeds from the jewelry he had sold and pawned in New York before we left.

‘Not enough,’ he said. ‘We got to spend the day collecting. Here’s how we’ll handle it …’

He spelled it out for us, going over it slowly, in detail. We would head into downtown Philadelphia, all of us in the Ford. Then, at some rendezvous point — say a parking lot in a shopping center — we’d separate and go different ways on foot or in cabs.

Dick Fleming would take men’s watches, the beautiful, engraved antique pocket watches and hunters in the Brandenberg loot. He’d select as many as he could comfortably carry — maybe a half-dozen or more — and peddle them in jewelry stores that bought secondhand gold. He would sell one watch in each store he hit. His scam was that the watch belonged to his father, was a family heirloom, and he was selling it regretfully, only because he needed some ready cash.

‘Think you can handle it?’ Donohue asked, looking at him closely.

‘Sure,’Dick said.

‘Sure you can,’ Donohue said. ‘I know you can. Don’t volunteer any information unless they ask. Then tell them what I just told you-nothing more.’

‘Use my right name?’ Fleming asked.

‘Only if they ask for it, which they probably won’t.’

‘How much should I ask?’

‘Five hundred,’ Donohue said promptly. ‘They’ll laugh and say there’s no demand for watches like that. Bullshit. Those watches are works of art; nuts collect them. Come down to two hundred if you have to. If they offer anything less, start to walk out. They won’t let you go; take my word for it. The gold in those watches is worth more than that. Jannie, you hit the same type of store. You’ll be hawking wedding rings. Solitaires and bands. If they ask, you just got a divorce and don’t want anything your sonofabitch husband gave you. If possible, ask them to make the first offer, then you demand fifty percent more. Haggle. Get as much as you can. Clear?’

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I can fiddle it, Jack. Can I sell two rings in one store — say a plain band and a diamond?’

‘Why not?’ he said. ‘Lots of women have more than one wedding ring. You’re a smart twist; I’ll leave it up to you.’

‘Don’t call me a twist,’ I said. ‘What will you and Hymie be doing?’

‘I saw some men’s rings in that heap: pinkie rings and heavy gold cufflinks set with diamonds and rubies. Hymie will try his luck in taverns. Bartenders are suckers for a hot buy. Me, I’m going to take some of the bracelets, pins, brooches, cocktail rings — flashy stuff like that.’

‘Who’s going to buy?’ I asked him curiously.

‘Whores,’ he said, grinning. ‘And their pimps. They can’t resist the dazzle. And there used to be some good cathouses in Philly. If they’re still there, I’ll clean up. Now we’ll go back to the motel and load up with merchandise. Then we’ll get moving; I want to be on the road as soon as possible.’