cars in.”
Parker nodded, and drove forward again. Seen up close, the buildings were just sheds, each with a single door and one or two windows in each wall. Parker made a circle past the shed Littlefield had pointed out, and swung around to face it. It was one of the corrugated ones, and a couple of pieces of the wall were lying on the ground to one side. Parker drove through the open space and stopped.
There was just a dirt floor inside, and darkness, and dry heat. Parker felt sweat breaking out on his face before he was out of the car. There was a Plymouth already in there; with Parker’s Mercury added the shed was full.
“Christ,” said Edgars. “Hot.”
They went back out to the sunlight and walked around the shed and over to Littlefield, who was standing next to the station wagon, watching them. Littlefield was wearing gray work pants and a flannel shirt and a cowboy hat. He didn’t look like a member of the board of directors any more; out here he looked like a hanging judge.
Littlefield said, “We set this one up for living quarters. You go on in, I’ll stay out here and watch for them.”
“Better get the wagon out of sight.”
“One car don’t make any difference.”
“Get it out of sight anyway.”
Littlefield pursed his lips and went away to get the car out of sight.
Parker and Edgars went into the wooden shed. Inside, it was one large room, and it seemed a little cooler than outside. Folded army cots were stacked in a corner near some cardboard cartons. A folding table and some folding chairs were set up in the middle of the room.
Five men were in the room. Kerwin and Wycza and Salsa and Pop Phillips were sitting around the table, playing poker. Paulus was in the corner, inventorying the contents of the cartons.
Phillips waved a greeting. “Welcome to our happy home,” he said.
Edgars said, “It looks okay, doesn’t it?”
“It’s okay,” Parker told him. But he felt exposed, these little sheds on the flat brown plain.
Phillips said, “It was a deal of work for two old men, I’ll tell you that. Me and Littlefield, we took down some walls to make garages, we transported food, we buried jugs of water under one of the sheds, we swept up, hung some curtains, planted azaeleas outside the windows, and hired a butler.”
“It looks good,” Parker said. He looked at Kerwin. “How’s the town?”
“Easy.”
“Can we do it this week?”
“Sure.”
“No problems?”
“None.”
“Of course,” Pop Phillips said, “Wycza and Salsa, here, they did help a bit. But for two old codgers, Littlefield and me, we did our share.”
“Sure you did,” Wycza told him. Wycza always seemed proud of Phillips, as though he’d invented him.
Paulus, from the corner, said, “I’m not sure we’ve got enough food.”
“We’ve got enough,” Phillips told him. “We’ve got plenty, don’t you worry.”
Littlefield stuck his head in the doorway. “Somebody coming.” He went away again.
Parker went over to a window and watched a green Ford coming closer. It stopped. Littlefield went over to talk to the driver and then pointed. The car moved again. When it went by, Parker saw it was Wiss and Elkins.
Salsa came over. “I got the walkie-talkies. Shall I explain them to you?”
“Sure.”
They went over to where the walkie-talkies were, nesting in four boxes like outsize shoeboxes. Salsa explained they were a matched set, he’d had them fixed for him. Talk into any one and the voice came out of all the other three. You couldn’t talk to just one of the other walkie-talkies, but you couldn’t talk to any walkie-talkies except these three, either. “I told the man we were a group of hunters,” he said. He smiled, and his teeth were white and even. The Latin Lover, with a tan. “I told the truth,” he said. “We are a group of hunters.”
“They look good,” Parker told him. “Good work.”
Wiss and Elkins came in then, and Wiss said to Phillips, “I need a cool place to keep the juice. Littlefield says to talk to you.”
“One second.” Phillips looked at his cards, said, “Fold,” and got to his feet. “I’ll show you. Sit in for me, Elkins.”
Elkins sat down at the table, and Wiss and Phillips left. Salsa, still standing beside Parker, said, “This Thursday?”
“Right.”
“Three days. Good. Three days before, four days after. One week is about all I will be able to take of this place.”
Parker nodded. Their original plan had been to stay in towns around the general area until the night of the raid, but they’d decided instead to gather here today, and stay until after the job was finished. This way there wouldn’t be any strangers in nearby towns for the locals to remember later.
