Johnny would have liked a whisky, but he sat down, shrugging.
'That smells good.'
'Yeah. Freda can cook.'
'You told her about me?'
'Oh, sure.' Scott leaned forward and turned to the T.V. set. 'She's in the kitchen.' He waved. 'Go talk to her.'
Johnny hesitated, then getting to his feet, he pushed open a door at the far end of the living room and looked into the small kitchen with a butane gas cooker, a cupboard, a table, a refrigerator and Freda Scott.
She was stirring something in a pan and she looked up.
Johnny felt a little jolt. God! he thought, this woman's beautiful!
And she was. Her face matched her body. She had to be a Swede with those bright china blue eyes, the blonde, silky hair, the high cheek bones, the straight, long nose.
While he stared at her, she gave him a brief, quick searching look, then scooping up raw, chopped-up fish, she dropped the pieces into the pan.
'Hungry?' She had a musical, soft voice which was like a sexual caress. 'I guess you must be. Well, it won't be long. Ed says you're going to stay.'
'If it's all right with you.'
She was wearing a pair of stretch pants and a man's shirt, a faded blue. He eyed the curve of her buttocks, remembering the body, naked. His eyes shifted to her full breasts, straining against the shirt.
'We want the money,' she said. 'Anyway, as Ed says, it'll be company for me. Do you like curry?'
'I like anything.'
'Go watch T.V. It'll be twenty minutes. I prefer to cook on my own.'
She glanced up and they looked at each other. The bright blue eyes ran over his short, heavily-built body, then to his face and their eyes locked.
'Call me Johnny,' Johnny said and his voice was a little husky.
'Freda.' She waved him away. 'Keep Ed company . . . not that he likes company, but he might grow used to it.' Johnny caught a bitter note in her voice.
Leaving her, he returned to the living-room.
Andy Lucas came into Massino's office, closed the door and looked from Massino to Tanza. The room was heavy with cigar smoke and there was a half- bottle of whisky, glasses and an ice bucket on the desk.
'Well?' Massino snarled.
'I've checked,' Andy said. 'It's taken time, but I've now talked with every driver who left the bus station between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m. on the night of the steal. None of them took those bags. If they take luggage, they have to issue a ticket . . . no luggage.'
'So that thins it down,' Tanza said. 'He either had someone with him who took the money out or the money is still in town.'
Massino brooded about this.
'So suppose he was on his own. Suppose he dumped the money in one of those left-luggage lockers across the street, planning to come back for it? What do you think?'
Tanza shook his head.
'He's no fool. He must know he couldn't come back. It's my bet he was working with someone who took the money out.'
Massino nodded.
'Looks like it, but just suppose he did dump the money in one of those lockers.' He looked at Andy. 'Can we check?'
'There are over three hundred lockers,' Andy said. 'Even the Commissioner couldn't get into them all without a judge's say-so. We could try, but do you want that, Mr. Joe?'
Massino thought about this, then shook his head.
'No. You're right. We start a caper like that and the press will get on to it.' He thought some more. 'But we can seal of those lockers. Get it organized, Andy. I want a twenty-four-hour watch kept. Have two men on four-hour shifts, day and night, watching those lockers. Give them a description of the bags. If anyone opens a locker and takes those bags, he's to be nailed!'
Andy nodded and left the office.
'So what's the organization doing?' Massino demanded.
'Take it easy, Joe. We'll find him . . . may take a little time, but we'll find him. The word's gone out. By now, everyone connected with us knows we want him. Take a look at this.' He produced from his wallet a printer's proof and laid it on the desk. 'This will appear in all the Florida newspapers tomorrow morning.'
Massino leaned forward and read the proof.
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?
$10,000 Reward
