She stopped and looked at him.
'Put the gun on the table and lay on the floor.'
It was like Robin couldn't believe it either, the way she was looking at him, going, 'What?'
He was saying to Skip, 'You too. Gun on the table, lay face down on the floor.'
Skip said, 'I like your spunk, man. Heavy.'
Robin said, 'You believe it?'
Skip said, 'That's from the dick handbook, how you're suppose to do it.'
Donnell, a step off from Skip and behind him, tried shaking his head at Chris, but the man wouldn't look at him. Doing what he said not to, causing a mean, bitchy look to come over Robin's face. Then making it worse.
Chris saying, 'I have to give you a chance. You don't take it, it's up to you.'
Sure enough, Robin pulled the gun out of her jeans and stiff-armed it in Chris's face. She said, 'I'll give you a chance to get in the fucking garage, man. How's that? Or die here.'
Skip made a face in his beard, telling her, 'Hey, let's stick to the goddamn script, okay? You get the check, I'll put them in the garage.'
Donnell thinking, That's it, let it happen. But no.
The hard-on cop had to say to her now, in his quiet way, 'Robin? You're not gonna make it.'
Why was he telling her? Donnell kept shaking his head, saying inside it, Look at me, look at me. But the man wouldn't.
Skip told her, 'Go, will you.'
Robin did, but stepped up to Chris first to touch the gun to his head and tell him, 'I'll be right back.'
He didn't say anything to her, kept still as she walked into the butler's pantry, finally leaving. Didn't say a word till Skip, staring at him, said:
'What's gonna stop her?'
Asking it like that--Chris still didn't have to say one word, let it happen, but he did.
He said, 'Five sticks of Austin Powder.'
Skip's hand moved slow-motion over his beard. He said, 'Five sticks . . .'
'In a black bag,' Chris said.
And Skip said, 'Oh, shit.'
'In the desk now,' Chris said. 'In the drawer with the checkbook.'
Skip paused. He said, 'You're trying to fake me out, aren't you? How would you know how to wire a charge?'
Right there--too good to resist. 'I guess nobody told you,' Donnell said, having to say it, 'my friend here was on the Bomb Squad.'
Skip banged open the swing door yelling 'Robin!' running through the dining room, knowing in his mind he should never have got into this, yelling 'Robin!' in the front hall, the woman working it, changing it, messing it up and never telling him a goddamn thing. He was too old for this--got to the library door to see her across the room at the desk, had time to breathe and yell at her, 'Don't touch it!'
It was quiet in the kitchen. Chris looked at Greta, her face raised, listening. Donnell stood across the table. He put his hand on the man's shoulder, and Woody opened his eyes and blinked a few times at Greta. He said, 'Hey, I know you.'
Greta said, 'Well, that's good.'
Donnell said, 'He got to her by now,' and said to Chris, 'You had to tell him, huh? Say to me don't say nothing, you had to tell him.'
Chris said, 'You want Skip with us or with Robin?'
Donnell had to think about that.
Greta said, 'Maybe we should just leave.'
Donnell jumped on that. 'Before they come back in here, with their guns.'
Chris said, 'Wait.'
Donnell said, 'I like to know what they doing.'
'She's close to it,' Chris said. 'It's right there.'
Donnell said, 'Wait now. Man, wait just a minute. Mr. Woody's new will I spent my fucking life getting him to sign is in that same place, man, in the desk.' Donnell was moving toward the pantry. 'He can't let the woman open that drawer.'
Chris said, 'Five bucks she does.'
They might not have heard him. At that moment dynamite exploded a few rooms away, not as loud as imagined waiting for it to happen; but the sound of it, so hard and sudden, did fill the room and the impact rattled the windows and the table and made the coffee cups jump.
Chapter 30
'The tricky part,' Chris said, 'you have to figure out how much wire to use. You run an exposed wire from the dynamite and hook it to the underside of the desktop in a loop. Then you run your insulated wire to the inside of the front of the drawer, staple it there and run it back through the loop, with about three inches of insulation at the end of the wire peeled off. See, then when you open the drawer it pulls the wire through till the exposed end touches the loop and completes the circuit.'
Donnell said, 'You understand that, Mr. Woody?'
Woody, eating his cereal with the TV on but the sound off, said, 'What?'
It was the following Sunday morning. Chris had stopped by to ask Donnell a question.
He was saying now, 'There's a little more to it. With the drawer open you lay a sheet of paper between the two wires, 'cause in that position the exposed parts would be touching. Then, it's like this,' Chris said, demonstrating. 'You pull the sheet out as you push the drawer closed. You want, I can draw you a picture how it works.'
'No, that's all right,' Donnell said. He poured coffee for Chris and refilled Woody's cup, saying, 'We be in the other room, Mr. Woody. Call, you need anything.'
Chris followed Donnell through the butler's pantry.
'He has Jimmy Swaggart on but no sound.'
'Mr. Woody don't like to hear Jimmy preach, it scares the shit out of him. But, see, 'The Lone Ranger' come on right after. Next hour or so he'll call me Tonto. I said to him, 'Mr. Woody, remember that new will me and you made up?' Looks at me, says, 'What new will?' '
They walked through the front hall to the library and stood in the doorway to look at the shattered interior, the ceiling scorched, books ripped from the shelves.
'You haven't done anything,' Chris said.
'I'm getting bids on the work. Don't have one yet that pleases me.'
Chris said, 'I'll bet there's still some of Robin in there.'
'Man, she was all over the library, huh? Didn't Skippy say something to you?'
'He opened his eyes. I think he said, 'Oh, shit,' but I could barely hear him.'
Donnell said, 'Yeah, well. . . .' Sipped his coffee and said, 'How you doing with Ginger?'
'You mean Greta. She went out to L.A., try and get in the movies. She makes it, I can say I helped finance her career. In a way, I mean. I gave her the check Woody gave me.'
'Get out.'
'I wasn't gonna keep it and Woody didn't have any more checks, so . . . what's the difference?'
'The difference between being smart and dumb as shit,' Donnell said, 'is what the difference is. Man, I don't believe it. You out of work, you give money away.'
'There's a good chance I'm going back, get in Homicide . . . after this hearing tomorrow. They want to ask me a few questions.'
'I bet they do.'
'There's one area where I might have a problem. See, I've talked to them already during the investigation--
