Parker drove Handy back to his place in Newark, then turned around and went back to his motel. He wrote a note asking to be called at ten o’clock, and dropped it through the mail slot in the office door. It seemed as if he was barely asleep when the woman who ran the motel was knocking at the door.
He got up and showered and ate breakfast and drove to the diner. Skimm was stationed in the furniture store parking lot and he went over and talked to him for a few minutes, leaving the Ford parked beside the diner. Then he went back over to the Ford, backing out of the parking space so he was in the position he’d be in during the job.
He paused to light a cigarette, watching the road. Traffic went by, headed south, and as the leader went by, Parker pulled out of the lot and fell in behind him. He went over the course again, and the lights worked the same in the daytime.
Satisfied, he went to the farmhouse and let Stubbs out in the air for two hours. Stubbs was surly and nervous. He’d refused to talk for the last two days, and he still refused to talk. The tic in his left cheek that had started yesterday was worse.
Chapter 7
SATURDAY, Handy went shopping around in different stores and pieced together a dark blue guard’s uniform. That afternoon, to keep Skimm and Alma happy, they all got together and made a timed dry run of the getaway.
Alma and Skimm jumped into the Dodge and went bumping off into the scrub back of the diner, and Parker and Handy pushed the Ford south on 9. They were to go south on 9, turn right on 516 to 18 and then left on Main Street and on to the farmhouse. Alma and Skimm were coming around the back way, down the Amboy Turnpike. That’s the way it was being done today, with everybody playing games and being serious about it, and Skimm the only one who thought it was for real.
When Parker and Handy got to the dirt road turnoff to the farmhouse, the green Dodge was already there, parked on the shoulder of the road; Parker stopped behind it and kept his motor running. He didn’t like the two cars together like this, so close to the time of the job.
Skimm came over from the Dodge and leaned in the window. “How’d it go?”
“Sweet,” Handy said. “No problems.”
“We ought to run through it again,” Skimm said.
Parker shook his head. He was disgusted because he had to play a part when he should be concentrating on the job.
“Alma doesn’t want to either,” Skimm said.
“She’s right,” Handy answered.
“We’ll go into the farmhouse,” Parker said.
Skimm went back to the Dodge, and Parker turned the Ford across the road and went up the dirt track and around the tree and down to the farmhouse, He parked in back, and he and Handy got out and stretched. Then Parker went inside and took the automatic from the card table and unbarred the door. He kicked the door and stepped back. “Come on out.”
Stubbs came out. He didn’t have anything in his hands, and he wasn’t watching for a chance to jump Parker. He’d stopped all that four or five days ago, around the same time he’d stopped shaving.
Parker had brought him shaving gear the third day, and for a while Stubbs had shaved every day or so, but now he’d stopped. His beard was spiny, dark brown flecked with grey. His mouth looked dirty too, with spittle caked white on the lips, and he kept his eyes half-closed against the light.
When Parker told him to go on outside in the air, he shuffled, keeping his arms at his sides. His movements were getting shorter and more economical every day.
When Stubbs and Parker came out, Alma and Skimm were standing with Handy, talking. Stubbs stopped and looked at them, blinking some more. He’d been at the farmhouse twelve days now, and this was the first he’d seen more than one person at a time.
Parker held the automatic loose at his side. “Wait around,” he said, “but don’t go near the cars.”
Stubbs walked around, in a large ragged circle. His shuffling made the white sand kick up around his feet. His shoes and pantcuffs were covered with sand, and his white shirt was almost grey. He’d stopped wearing the chauffeur’s jacket and cap, and his squat head looked naked, as though his hair was getting thinner. He shuffled around in a circle, head bowed and eyes looking at the ground, while the other four stood by the farmhouse and talked.
They went over the job, what each of them was supposed to do and how long it would take. Who was supposed to be where when. Parker went over it, and then each of the others went over his part of it, explaining it as though the other three didn’t know anything about it. There were questions, mostly from Alma and mostly useless because they weren’t about Alma’s part of it, but the questions were all answered.
Stubbs interrupted after a while, shuffling over and telling Parker he had to go out around to the other side of the farmhouse because of the woman. Parker went with him, and while he waited he listened to the drone of the three voices from around back.
Shortly afterwards, they finished and everybody seemed satisfied. Alma and Skimm got back into the Dodge, and drove around the farmhouse and back up towards the road. Handy and Parker stayed a while longer, so Stubbs could have more time out in the air. It looked to Parker as though Stubbs might be getting sick, since he wasn’t shaving or trying to fight back any more. He wanted Stubbs to stay healthy.
Handy said to Stubbs, “It’s almost over, partner. By Monday night, you’ll be away from here.”
“It’s always night,” said Stubbs. It was almost the first thing he’d said, and his voice was low and flat, as though he didn’t care if anybody heard him.
Handy felt sorry for Stubbs. He’d been inside and he knew this must be even worse than inside, because of being alone and no light. “Listen, there’s a flashlight in the car. Why don’t we give you the flashlight?”
“For what?” Parker said.
