Stubbs shook his head. “We talked about that. How it could be faked, maybe. She’s got to see me in person.”
“God damn it,” Parker said, “I don’t have time for this crap.”
Handy shrugged. “You’ll have to go back to Nebraska with him.”
“I don’t have time,” said Parker angrily. “The job’s set up for two weeks from now. We’ve got to set up the cars, the routes, we’ve got to chart the state troopers, we’ve got to buy guns–-” He mashed his cigarette out and got to his feet.
“There’s too much to do. Stubbs, when’s the deadline?”
Stubbs blinked at him. “What?”
“The deadline, the deadline. When does May blow the whistle if she doesn’t hear from you?”
“Oh. A month from now. From yesterday. Four weeks from yesterday.”
Parker paced back and forth, looking down at the carpet. “Two days,” he said. “Even if we fly out. One day out and one day back. Two days for Alma to fast-talk Skimm, two days with nothing getting done.”
“We could hold the job off for a week.”
Parker shook his head. “It’s sour enough already. I want to get it over with. Another week for Alma to think up some more cute ideas? Another week for that damn cop to see me driving by?”
“What cop?”
Parker shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking about it. “A cop paid attention to me on route 9.”
“Near the diner?”
“South of it.” He turned and studied Stubbs. “The easiest thing,” he said, “would be to bump you and drop you in a pool by one of the refineries. Then two weeks from now I go cut May.”
Stubbs doggedly shook his head. “She’s got her common-law husband with her,” he said. “And his brother. They figure something might happen like that.”
“What if you just let him go?”
“Look at him,” Parker said. “He’s punchy. He goes up against the guy who killed that doctor, he’s dead. Then I’m dead.”
“I can take care of myself,” Stubbs said.
‘Sure,” Parker answered.
‘So what do you want to do?” Handy asked.
‘There’s too much to watch. I’m ready to pull out of this damn thing, there’s too much to watch.”
“I could use the cash,” Handy said. “This is my last job, you know.”
“Yeah. That’s the thing. I need it too.” Parker looked at Stubbs and shook his head. “I’ve got to hold on to this beetle for two weeks. I’ve got to put him on ice.”
Handy considered that. “What about the farm?”
“What farm?”
“Outside Old Bridge. Where we’re supposed to meet after the job. You been out there yet?”
“Not yet.”
“We could stash him there, maybe.”
Parker thought about it. So many things to watch. The job, Alma, the state trooper, and now Stubbs. But he didn’t have anything else on the fire. “That’s a bad way to work it. To hang around the hideout before the job.”
“Do you figure we’re going there after it?”
“That’s right. I forgot about Alma.” Parker shrugged. “All right. We’ll put him on ice out there.”
Handy stood up, and waved the automatic at Stubbs. “Come along.”
Stubbs said, “Listen, what are you trying to pull?”
“Look,” Parker said. “Look at him, he wants to argue.”
Handy turned to Stubbs. “How’s your kneecaps? In good shape?” Stubbs caught the message. He got to his feet and shut up. They took him downstairs and back to the Ford. They drove over to 9 and headed south, Parker driving, with Stubbs beside him and Handy in the back seat.
On the way Parker asked, “How’d you get me?”
“That letter you got,” Stubbs said. “I looked up that Lasker fella in Cincinnati, and he left a forwarding address. I went there and hung around till I saw you.”
“He left a forwarding address,” repeated Parker. He shook his head and kept driving. He didn’t know if this was Handy’s last job, but he knew it was Skimm’s.
PART TWO
Chapter 1
PARKER left the car off Hudson Boulevard in Jersey City and walked two blocks to the office building. There were two elevators, but only one of them was working. An ancient angular Negro with a loose vacant smile operated it. Its metal sides were painted green, and there were grease smears on the doors.
