He looked up at Parker, hopeful and expectant. “What do you think?”
Parker shook his head and crossed the room to toss his cigarette out the window. When he turned back he said, “You ever work an armoured car job before, Skimm?”
Skimm’s lips twitched. “No, I never did.”
“That’s what I figured. They got two-way radios, boy. You drop tear gas in there, right away he calls. Before he has to take a deep breath there’s state police all over us.”
Skimm looked down at the map and papers, as though they’d betrayed him. “I didn’t know that.”
“And you don’t make a getaway in a semi-trailer,” Parker went on. “They’d catch you before you reached fourth gear.”
“Jesus, Parker–-“
“Who worked up this scheme? Alma?”
“Most of it was her idea, yeah.”
“Sure. She spent a lot of time leaning on the counter looking out there at the tin box wishing she could get her hands on the green inside and working it all out in her head, not knowing a thing about heisting or armoured cars or anything else except how to draw a lousy cup of coffee.”
“Aw, now, Parker–-“
“I need cash,” Parker said. “I’m in the job, on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“We throw that plan away and start from scratch. She gave us the set-up, and it’s a good one. Bracketing the wagon with trucks is good, too. From there on, we got to work something out from the beginning.”
Skimm twitched all over trying not to show his relief. He’d never worked an armoured car before, and he hadn’t been sure of himself. He’d probably talked himself into a bind with the woman Alma, loud-talking about what an artist he was so he couldn’t admit to her he didn’t know whether her ideas were any good or not. He’d wanted Parker because he wanted somebody else to take over the operation.
Parker lit a new cigarette. “We’ll do it with three men, not five. The pie’s too small for five. You and Handy and me, and we split it three ways even. You and Alma can share your third between you any way you want.”
“What about her ten per cent?”
“Give it to her out of your third. What the hell, she’s travelling with you.”
“Jesus, I don’t know, Parker. I’d have to check with Alma on that.”
“You two figured to take a third anyway, didn’t you? And leave the other two-thirds for a four-man split. So what’s the difference? You get the same dough as before, but with a cleaner, safer job.”
“I guess so,” Skimm said doubtfully. “I’d have to check with Alma.”
Skimm worried it over, staring anxiously at the empty pint. Finally, he said, “Okay, Parker. Three ways, even.”
“All right. Let me see that map.” Parker came over and took it from the bed. “Newark,” he said. “There’s a bar named the Green Rose. It’s on Division Street. I’ll meet you there next Monday night, ten o’clock.”
“Okay, sure.” Skimm got up from the bed, his lips twitching again. Parker knew he was anxious to go buy another pint. “Okay, Parker, I’m glad to have you in, I really am. I’ll send word to Lew and Little Bob to forget it.”
“Good.”
“What you going to do now?”
‘See about bankrolling. I know a couple of people in Baltimore. I’ll figure three grand to cover it.”
“Okay, fine. Listen, you want Handy with me? At the bar I mean.”
“Sure.”
“I’m glad to have you in, Parker.”
“The Green Rose,” Parker reminded him. “Next Monday, ten o’clock.”
Chapter 4
ACROSS THE RIVER from Cincinnati, Ohio, is Newport, Kentucky. Parker took the bus over and walked to Whore Row. Cincinnati is a clean town, so the Cincinnati citizens in search of action go across the river to Newport, which is a dirty town. Parker wandered around, walking up and down the streets, . looking. It was eleven-thirty at night when he got to Newport, and nearly two in the morning before he found what he was looking for.
Ahead of him, a weaving drunk fumbled with his car keys, trying to get into a car with Ohio plates. The car was a Ford, cream-coloured, two years old. Except for Parker and the drunk the block was empty and deserted.
Parker came along, arms swinging loose at his sides, and when he was alongside the drunk he turned and chopped him in the kidney. That made it impossible for the drunk to cry out. Parker turned him and clipped him, and caught the car keys as they fell from the drunk’s hand. The drunk hit the pavement, and Parker unlocked the car door, slid behind the wheel, and drove away.
He took the bridge back across the river to Cincinnati and parked near the railroad depot. He went into the depot and got the suitcase and typewriter case from the locker where he’d stashed them. Then he went back to the car and drove north through town and out the other side and headed northeast on 22 towards Pittsburgh. It was now three o’clock Thursday morning. He had till Monday night to get to New Jersey and look the situation over for himself. If the set-up looked as promising as Skimm had made it sound, fine. Otherwise, Skimm would have a long wait at the Green Rose.
