At a break in the conversation, Parker asked if either of them had ever heard of George Uhl, but they hadn’t. He didn’t bother to explain, and they didn’t ask anything. In the two weeks since Uhl had loused up the Mother’s Day robbery, Parker had dropped a few lines into the stream, hoping to get word of his potential whereabouts, but so far nothing had happened. Once before he’d tracked Uhl down, but that trail was dead now. and in any case he had neither the patience nor the resources nght now to try it again. The first thing was to put a job together and get the finances back where they belonged; after that he could spend some time looking for Uhl if he wanted.
When the doorbell finally sounded again, Beaghler said, That’ll be Ducasse,” and got to his feet.
Parker turned to Walheim, saying, “He’s the last one?”
”I guess so. Bob said it was a four-man job.”
“Good.” The smaller the string, the better.
It was Ducasse. He came in, looking pleased, and Beaghler introduced him to Walheim and Sharon. Then they all sat down at the round table again, and Ducasse said to Parker, “I checked back a few days ago. Ashby died.”
“That’s tough,” Parker said.
Beaghler gave them both a bright look: “Something?”
“Nothing important,” Parker said. “We all here now?”
“Right.” Beaghler grinned, looking over at Walheim as though to say you’ll-appreciate-this, and said, “Have you all heard of San Simeon?”
Walheim had, and seemed puzzled by the reference. Parker knew the name slightly, but couldn’t remember what it signified. Ducasse said, “Wasn’t that Hearst’s place?”
“Right. A big mansion he built for himself down the coast. About halfway to L.A. Filled it full of art goods, millions of dollars’ worth of art goods.”
Walheim said, “You aren’t going to break into San Simeon.”
“Shit, I know that.” Beaghler grinned. “There’s a cousin of mine,” he said, “he’s one of the guides there, for the tours they have, the public tours. He told me there’s some stuff going out on loan, in about a month from now. Coming up here to the university, over at Berkeley.”
Ducasse said, “You want to make the hit at the college?”
“No, on the way up.”
Parker said, “How much stuff?”
“Three statues,” Beaghler said. “They’re some kind of famous old statues from Europe, from a long time ago. There was ten of them done, and three of them are down in San Simeon. They’re going to have maybe seven of them brought together at Berkeley, and pictures of the rest.”
Ducasse said, “How much are they worth?”
“My cousin says they’re two hundred grand apiece.”
Walheim whistled, and Ducasse said, “Six hundred thousand. That’s a lot.”
Parker said, “Who’s your buyer?”
Grinning, Beaghler shook his head and said, “I don’t have one. You know my story, I’m a driver, I never been anything but. I don’t have any contacts like that.”
Parker said, “You want one of us to come up with a buyer.”
“Right.”
“For three of a thing that there’s only ten of in the world.”
Beaghler’s smile slipped a little. “You don’t think it can be done?”
“I’m not sure,” Parker said. “But it doesn’t sound easy. What are these statues made of?”
“Gold. Solid gold, all the way through.”
Walheim said, “What would they be worth melted down?”
Parker shook his head. “Nothing, in comparison. The best bet would be the insurance company.”
Beaghler frowned. “We’d be lucky to get a quarter from the insurance company.”
“You’ll be lucky to find a buyer,” Parker told him.
Beaghler said, “All right, let’s wait a while on the buyer. Let me tell you my idea for the caper.”
Parker shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“My cousin told me they’re going to crate them up in three separate wooden boxes, packed really safe and secure. Then they’re going to travel up the coast road in an armored car. No escort, just the armored car.”
Ducasse said, “An armored car doesn’t need an escort.”
Beaghler looked around at the three faces. “Do all of you know the coast road, up through Big Sur?”
They all nodded. Parker remembered having driven it two or three times in the past, a curving two-lane road between the ocean and the mountains of the Santa Lucia Range, twenty-eight miles of rugged scenery, cliffs and boulders and mountains and no cities or towns. There were campsites and forest ranger stations off in the mountains, but that was all.
“All right,” Beaghler said. “They’re coming up that road. We ambush the armored car on one of the curves
