Firebreak

'His story is, he doesn't know what they were for. Marino asked him to bring them up, but didn't say why, and Marino's a very good customer, so Griffith did what he wanted, and expected a phone call at the lodge to tell him what to do next.'

Wiss said, 'Now Marino's gonna talk to Italian cops. What story is he gonna tell?'

'He and Griffith are e-mailing each other all the time,' Lloyd said, 'but you know how secure that can be.'

Elkins laughed. 'For instance,' he said, 'we're reading it.'

'Exactly. So they're being very circumspect, very careful what they say to each other. A lot of 'as you know' stuff.'

Elkins said, 'Are they on the same page yet?'

'The story's going to be,' Lloyd told him, 'Marino's moving some of his paintings, the ordinary ones out on the walls in the regular part of the lodge, he's gonna move some of them to his place in the Alps, but he didn't decide yet which ones, so he wanted a bunch of different-size crates.'

Parker said, 'Nobody's going to buy that, not in Italy and not here.'

'They might in Sog,' Elkins said. 'Money's the only thing they really believe, down in Sog.'

'It doesn't matter if they believe it,' Lloyd said, 'it only matters that it gives their lawyers something to say.'

Parker said, 'I'm trying to decide, is delay better for us, or worse? Do we still want to break in there, or hijack it on the road?'

Wiss said, 'I think it's better where it is. We already know the layout. Also, they don't know yet what they're gonna find. Once they've got it, and see what it is, they'll really do tight security.' .

Elkins said, 'So we've got until they find the architect.'

'Well, a little longer,' Lloyd told him. 'Until they finish talking to the architect's lawyer.'

'Then we should talk with our new neighbors,' Parker said. 'Make them feel at home. Dave Rappleyea and Fred Wheeler.'

3

Parker watched Elkins introduce himself to Dave Rappleyea. He was good at that sort of thing, easygoing enough, not threatening, but also not overly hearty. Having a conversation with somebody who might know something useful in the heist you were working on was part of his job description: heavy lifting.

Rappleyea looked like a guy who didn't get into conversations with human beings very often. A pudgy sort in baggy jeans and a shapeless black V-neck sweater over a green T-shirt, he had long pale yellow hair, almost white, pulled back behind his ears from a central part, and he blinked out at the world through perfectly round tortoiseshell glasses.

Parker and Elkins and Wiss had trailed Rappleyea, and the other one, Fred Wheeler, to this bar-restaurant diagonally across the road from the motel. It was a squarish room, booths on both sides, tables in the middle, bar at the back, no nonsense about no smoking. It was maybe half full at seven on a Wednesday evening, most of the customers already dressed for hunting.

Rappleyea and Wheeler took a booth on the right, and Parker and Elkins and Wiss took the next one beyond them, Wiss with his back to Rappleyea so he could listen to their conversation, Parker and Elkins facing him so they could watch the other two.

But there was no conversation to listen to, and nothing interesting to watch. Rappleyea had some sort of handheld computer game he was playing, pausing only to order his dinner, then eating one-handed so he could continue to play with the other. Wheeler read a car magazine through his dinner, thoroughly, slowly, doggedly, as though he expected to be tested on it later. They didn't speak, didn't look at each other, barely admitted there was anyone else at the table.

Wheeler ate the way he read his magazine, doggedly and completely, and was finished first. 'See you,' he said—Rappleyea nodded, not looking up from his game—and got to his feet and left. Rappleyea was still eating, being slowed down by his one-handedness.

'This should be fun,' Elkins said, and stood. He strolled over to the cash register, looked at the local-attraction brochures on the narrow shelves underneath it, chose one, and ambled back, nodding in pleased surprise over a color picture of a cataract somewhere in the Bear Paw Mountains. He started to slide into the next booth, across the table from Rappleyea, and as Rappleyea looked up, startled, Elkins showed his own surprise and embarrassment as he hastily got up again, saying, 'Oops, sorry, wrong booth. I'm back there.'

'Okay,' said Rappleyea, and looked down at his game.

Which Elkins pointed at, saying, 'Is that a Game-Boy?'

'No, it's a Q-Pac,' Rappleyea said, not quite looking up.

Elkins said, 'What, is that better?'

'It's different, that's all.' Rappleyea finally gave Elkins complete eye contact, holding up the computer game as he said, 'You can play it with one hand, if you're busy doing something else.' ¹

'Well, that's pretty good,' Elkins agreed. 'Listen, are you from around here? Do you know any white-water rafting we could drive to?'

'No, I'm sorry, I'm not local, I wouldn't—'

'Oh, sure, that's right, I saw you over at the motel. I'm from Chicago myself, near Chicago. Where do you live?'