what you do for him. He’ll kill you both after you get him out of New Bradford.”
“That’s the chance I take.”
“If you’ll do it my way-”
“I’ve done it your way. It doesn’t work. All I have left is me, myself.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s always been true.”
“Then it’s always been wrong. Nobody makes it by copping out.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“What would you call it, Wes?”
“All right, then I’m copping out.”
“People have to pull together. When we’re in the same boat. And we all are.”
“Don’t preach to me, John.”
“Every decent man.”
“Every decent man isn’t in my spot.”
“That’s when it’s most important! Wes, before it’s too late-”
Malone turned his back on the tree. “Furia?”
“Yeah.” The spinny voice sounded interested.
“Will you hold off on your five-minute deadline till I can come in and talk to you?”
“What for?”
“You still want that money, don’t you? Well, without me you’ll never get it. It’s in a bank vault.”
“In a what?”
“Let me come in and I’ll explain the whole thing. You’ll never swing the money and a getaway with just Goldie now that you’ve killed Hinch. You’ll need help and I’m your only answer. Do we have a deal?”
“Shut up, Goldie!” The crack widened further. “Okay, you big men out there, I hold off my deadline while your boy tries to sell me. Only I tell you in ABC, if this is some kind of a cop play and you rush the house while we’re talking, my first two shots are for Malone and his kid. Put your hands on your head, fuzz, and come on in.”
Malone stood loosely in the Thatchers’ cold hall while Furia searched him. His eyes were on Barbara. Barbara was sitting on the stairs a few steps up, beside Goldie. Her little fingers were buried in the pile of the stair carpet, clutching. She was staring at her father in disbelief.
“Daddy?”
“Everything’s going to be all right, Bibby. You all right?”
“Daddy.” She started to get up.
“Keep her there,” Furia said, stepping back. “It ain’t Old Home Week yet.” Goldie pushed her back down without looking away from Malone.
Suffer you bitch.
“It’s okay, Bibby, daddy’s here, and I’m not leaving you again.”
Malone was in a state of excited peace. He had never felt so strong, so secure.
“Never mind with the hearts and flowers, fuzz. Start pitch-ing.”
The Colt Trooper was back in Furia’s hand, he had reloaded. The Walther was back in his waistband, the rifle was leaning handily against the radiator. The revolver was four feet from Malone’s navel.
“We’d better do something about that back door,” Malone said. “Just in case. It’s broken and eight officers are outside there.”
“What do you think I am, some punk? I got a great big freezer and an icebox across it. They start shoving,” Furia ripped the Papa Bear mask off and Malone saw his teeth, long and pointed, “bang bang bang. Now what’s this crud about a safe deposit box? What kind of a dummy hijacks a heisted payroll and parks it in a bank vault?”
“A smart one,” Malone said. “Right, Goldie?”
“Since when did you start bellying up to fuzz?” Goldie wanted to know. “I tell you, Fure, this is a con. I tell you.”
“And me with the drop? Relax, doll. I want to hear what’s on his fuzz mind. Okay, Malone, it’s in a bank vault. How do we get it?”
“Simple,” Malone said. “We walk in there and we open the box and we walk out.”
“And your buddies let us.”
“They’ll let us. As long as you have Barbara and me. They’ll let us walk out and they won’t lift a finger to stop our getaway. Stopping you means Barbara and I die, you’ve convinced them of that. They won’t interfere after I lay it on the line.”
Furia looked amused. “And how do we open the box?”
“They’ll give us the bank’s master key.”
The Colt snaked out and bit into Malone’s middle.
“You don’t have to do that,” Malone said. He had not moved. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“Yeah? What do you take me for?” His short fuse made Furia’s Mickey Mouse ears burn to their points. “You think I don’t know how a safe deposit operates? You got to have two keys to open a box, the bank’s and yours. So where’s the other key? You got it?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Tell him, Goldie,” Malone said.
“Tell him?” Goldie said. “Tell him what? You see what I mean, Fure? He’s trying to break us up. That’s his con.”
“Wait a minute,” Furia said. “What’s she know about it?”
“She knows all about it,” Malone said. “She’s the one hijacked that payroll from my house and took it that same day to the Taugus National in town. My wife only saw the pants and jacket and thought it was a man. She’s the boxholder, Furia. Look at her. Look at her face.”
Goldie’s face was like the rest of her, in the deepfreeze. The cold breath had turned her cheeks white with frost.
“He’s making it up.” Her tongue crept over her lips. “Fure, this is Goldie, remember? Would I lie to you? Did I ever?”
“You say,” Furia said to Malone. “How about proving it?”
“She had to sign when she rented the box. She signed a phony name, but with the same initials. I got hold of a letter she wrote her sister Nanette, went to the bank, and compared handwritings. They’re the same.”
“Show me.”
“I’ll show it to you at the bank. They wouldn’t let me have it.”
“See?” Goldie said. “See, Fure, he’s got nothing. Who you going to believe, him or me?”
“You didn’t rent a box at the bank, Goldie?”
“No.”
“You ain’t got a key?”
“No!”
“I think,” Furia said, “we’ll have ourselves a look. Come down off there.”
“Down where?” Goldie chattered. “What are you going to do to me, Fure?”
“See if you got a key. Go into the room.”
Goldie rose. “And if you don’t find it on me?” she said shrilly. “You’ll let me give this sonofabitch what he’s got com-
Q?? ing.’
“That’s my trip. Get in there. You-kid. Go up in the bedroom.”
“What are you going to do?” Goldie said again.
“Bibby,” Malone said. “Do what the man says. Go upstairs and stay there till I call you.”
