“We’re not pulling a trigger on anybody—not unless he forces us to. And if it isn’t Dillinger, we’ll straighten it out after we’ve made the collar.”
“I thought you were going to supervise this yourself and make sure nobody got trigger-happy. Being a trained detective, I can tell right away you’re here sitting at a desk.”
He patted the air with his free hand, as he sipped his coffee. “I
“They won’t take him as they see him go in?”
“Probably not.”
“
“With only two men at each site, we’d prefer to wait till our entire contingent has converged on the one correct theater.”
“Then what? Take him after he’s inside the dark theater?”
“Possibly. But only if there’s an open seat behind him and we could grab him from behind.”
I shook my head. “Not in this heat. There isn’t an empty seat in any air-cooled movie house in town, tonight.”
Cowley shrugged with his eyebrows. “Then we take him when he comes out.”
“Anna and Polly are with him?”
“The Sage woman and Miss Hamilton, yes.”
“Is Polly in on it?”
“We’ve been dealing with Mrs. Sage.”
“You mean Purvis has. You haven’t even met her.”
He scratched the side of his head, where it went from brown to gray. Didn’t look at me. “That’s right. But it’s not pertinent.”
“I think you should be very careful, if this does fall into place tonight. Particularly if you’re planning to let the East Chicago boys come along.
Stone-faced, Cowley just looked at me; then, slowly, reluctantly, he nodded.
I said, “Zarkovich is at the Marbro, I know. The rest of them, where are they now?”
Sarcasm etched itself into the corners of his eyes. “In our conference room down the hall, with some of my men, having sandwiches. Why, is there somebody you’d like to talk to?”
“Your conference room,” I said, my aches and pains suddenly coming back to me. “They ought to be comfortable, there. Isn’t that where you guys do your own rubber-hose work, and hang guys out the window till they talk and such?”
Cowley didn’t like that. But he just said, “That’s not the way we do things. Maybe it’s different in East Chicago.”
“So I hear. Anyway, be careful tonight, if you decide to go to the movies. Because the Outfit may be providing you with a fall guy for the main feature.”
“A fall guy.”
“A patsy. A ringer.”
He made a dry disgusted
“Well, Purvis could. He has been before.”
“Don’t start again, Heller…”
I shrugged elaborately, and it only hurt a little. “Hey, it’s your job on the line, not mine. Just don’t forget that you’re following through on something put in motion by Dillinger’s
He swatted at the air with one thick hand, like my thoughts were flies. “That doesn’t mean anything. Piquett just double-crossed him, is all.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re falling in line with Piquett and doing Dillinger a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Getting him declared dead.”
Cowley, not a man given to smirks, smirked. “And what does John Dillinger do, once he’s ‘dead’? Disappear in thin air?”
“With the accumulated loot from his various bank jobs, sure. He could buy a fucking island.”
Cowley winced at “fucking.” He just didn’t like that kind of language; I knew he didn’t—that’s why I said it. Anything, to light a match under his Mormon butt.
“You’re a good man, Cowley,” I said. “Don’t get taken in.”
“Your confidence in me is an inspiration, Heller.”
The phone on his desk jangled and he grabbed it, the weariness in his face replaced with urgency.
