Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (31 page)

Where the hell is this going to lead, I wondered. Jinx was waiting for me in front of the apartment, looking his best.

I slid off the seat ‘You drive,’ I said.

‘What’s up?’ he asked, getting under the wheel.

‘We’re in,’ I said. ‘This thing’s sacked.’ I closed the door and he rolled the Zephyr away. ‘Did you get out without waking Holiday?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good. One more fight with her and I’m ready for the straitjacket. Last night I found out what’s wrong with her.’

‘What?’

‘She used to be in love with a sports writer.’

‘Does that make something wrong with her?’

‘A dame never gets over her love for a sports writer. She never forgets the memory. She wears the scar forever. Head for the City Hall, will you?’

‘City Hall?’

‘Webber’s office. The sacrosanct cubicle of the Dalai Lama himself.’

‘You finally figure something?’

‘You know me, Jinx.’

‘What is it you figured?’

‘That can wait,’ I said. ‘Tell you what you think about. You try to remember some place around here where we can stash that Buick for six or seven hours, where there’s no chance of anybody seeing it, where there’s absolutely no chance of anybody seeing it.’

I
DIDN’T STOP AT
the door marked BUREAU OF HOMICIDES. I went to the next door down the corridor, the door to Inspector Webber’s private office, and rapped on it

‘Come in,’ I heard Webber’s voice say.

I opened it and Jinx and I went in.

Webber was behind the desk, looking displeased as always; and Mandon was sitting in a chair at the side of the desk. Reece was standing with his back to the window, his arms folded.

‘Good morning,’ I said, holding my voice down, not wanting to seem fresh or impertinent, what the hell, why rub it in, but the Dalai Lama’s displeasure seemed only to increase.

I glanced at Mandon and I could tell from the way he looked that he already had been berated, and he was saying to me with his eyes, ‘I hope this is good.’ I smiled at him, reassuringly, and crossed to the desk.

‘You feel better about this, Inspector?’ I asked.

‘You seem to,’ he said in brief gruffness.

‘I do,’ I said. I leaned over the desk. ‘I got the trigger to this thing now. I had Vic Mason rent a truckaway. We get it today –this morning.’

‘What’s a truckaway?’ Webber asked.

‘A truckaway is a truck that hauls automobiles,’ I said. ‘You’ve seen ’em. It loads three cars on the body of the truck and it has a track above, a platform, that loads some more on top, over the driver’s cab. You drive ’em up on a metal ramp and then you disconnect the ramp and you’re ready to go. You’ve seen ’em.’

He looked at Reece, and Mandon leaned forward in his chair, and I knew they had gotten the idea.

‘We stick up the Buick and stash it somewhere till night, and then around midnight when there’s not much traffic, we drive onto the truckaway and away we go.’

‘Away we go where?’ Reece asked, moving in closer.

‘To one of the bridges across the river –the one that’s most likely to be deserted. We may have to block off both sides for a few minutes, but that’s only a detail. We back the truckaway up to the railing and roll the Buick off into the middle of the river. Clean and perfect…’ Webber lowered his eyes to the desk, then raised them.

‘And what about the four guys?’ he asked.

‘I thought we covered that last night,’ I said.

‘Just the same …’

‘The balance in nature is always cold-blooded,’ I said. ‘Or did you ever for example see a goshawk wheel and dive at a partridge?’

They looked at each other, but nobody said anything. Webber turned but didn’t move from behind the desk.

‘I hate to say this, gentlemen,’ I said, ‘but I think this is a hell of an idea.’

Webber said ponderously: ‘That means you’ll have to kill these men right after the stick-up.’

‘Naturally,’ I said.

‘When will that be? What time?’

‘Three-thirty. Four o’clock. I got to let them finish with their collections. Otherwise, there’s not much point to it.’

‘And you figure to get rid of the Buick around midnight?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you’re gonna have a hot automobile full of dead men on your hands for eight or nine hours. Where you gonna stash the car?’

‘That’s what Joseph and I are going to decide when we leave here,’ I said. ‘He knows this country, don’t you?’

Jinx nodded.

I went on: ‘Findin’ a place to stash the car is no problem. The problem is to find police uniforms to fit Joseph and me. That’s the problem.’

‘I don’t like it,’ Webber said. ‘An automobile full of dead men is not something you can drive into a parking lot and forget. This is too risky. These guys disappear at four o’clock, the goddamn alarm’ll be out by five.’

‘Why will it?’ I asked. ‘Roamer’ll come to you first. You don’t have to put out the goddamn alarm.’

He hadn’t thought of this, by God, he hadn’t thought of it. I knew from the dumb look in his face that this had not occurred to him. Jesus, was I going to have to do all the thinking?

‘Car full of dead men, blocking bridge,’ he said, almost painfully.

‘Hey, hold on!’ Reece said. ‘Why worry about stashing the car or using the bridge? I know where there’s an abandoned quarry out here on the old Holt Turnpike that’s three hundred goddamn feet deep. Why not use that?’

‘What the hell good is an old abandoned quarry gonna do us?’ I said.

‘Well, for Christ’s sake, it’s got water in it same as the river,’ he said. ‘If anything, it’s deeper. It’s a hell of a lot safer than lugging an automobile full of dead men around town and dumping it off the bridge.’

Maybe Holiday had been right, maybe he was smarter than I gave him credit for being. This was something good. I grinned at him. One more contribution like this and I’d have to put him in Webber’s job.

I looked at Webber. For the first time since I’d known him he was beginning to smile. …

A
T THREE TWENTY-FIVE
P
RATT
eased the blue-and-white traffic-control car, a Ford sedan with a Mercury motor, into a parking space down the street from Harold’s Beauty Shop. Downey was in the front seat with him, and Jinx and I were in the back. We all wore police uniforms. Racked on the bottom of the roof over Downey was a tommy gun, racked on the bottom of the roof over us was another tommy gun and an automatic rifle. On the floor between Jinx’s feet and mine was the suitcase containing our civilian clothes. The clothes we would put on when the job was done and the suitcase then could be used to hold the contents of the little leather satchels – the money, a minimum of fifteen thousand dollars. The little leather satchels we would sink with the four collectors in the Buick.

Nobody said anything. Pratt lighted a cigarette and glanced at me a couple times, obviously still thinking about last night when I had seen him. Ever since I had got in the car in the police garage he had been self-conscious and shy with me, but I had been very careful not to do or say anything that might remind him of it. Downey half turned in his seat, looking back at me.

‘Suppose those guys change the route?’ he said. ‘Suppose they don’t stop here last?’

‘Then I can’t help it,’ I said, ‘and we’ll have to try again. But I don’t think they’ll switch. Why should they? They’re not looking for a heist. It’s the last thing they are looking for. They’ve had things their own way so long they’re fat, cocky and careless. That’s what we’re figuring on to carry this off without a hitch – their being fat, cocky and careless. Now, let’s see if we got this. Jinx and I go over and give ’em a parking ticket. If they don’t park in the loading zone, I fake a charge. There’ll be a brief argument and we’ll have to take the guys down.’

‘These are not apple-stealers,’ Pratt said. ‘They’re tough boys.’

‘You sound just like Webber,’ I said. ‘I know all about how tough they are. When Jinx and I get in and start away with ’em, you guys follow. I’ll make ’em drive to the quarry the same way we just come from there.’

‘They’ll know something’s wrong when they have to head away from the City Hall,’ Downey said.

‘I’ll handle that,’ I said. ‘You just stick close. If anything at all goes wrong, the first guy I’ll let have it is the driver. That’ll put the Buick out of control, and in the excitement we’ll get out and you come alongside and start using your tommy guns. Clear?’

They nodded.

‘You got your orders from Webber. This has got to be absolutely clean. If you have to start shooting, be sure you wipe ’em out.’

I looked at Jinx. His face was a little drawn. I winked at him and offered him a cigarette. ‘Take it easy,’ I said, lighting the cigarette for him. ‘Relax. This is the big league…’

I wasn’t too worried about him, because I didn’t anticipate any rough stuff from their end, from Roamer’s men. He was along just to give the thing atmosphere and authority.

He took a few puffs of the cigarette and then touched my knee. I looked out the window. The black Buick was passing us, the four guys inside, it was slowing down, and I followed it with my eyes as it came to a stop in the loading zone down the street from Harold’s. The same three guys, the little one and the two medium-sized ones, got out and walked back to the beauty shop.

Downey reached up and unracked the tommy gun and put it on the floor between his legs. I liked that. This fellow was concentrating. Pratt started the motor.

‘Here we go,’ I said to Jinx.

I got out behind him and Downey closed the door.

‘Remember all you got to do is act like a rookie cop,’ I said.

‘Yeah,’ he said, dropping his cigarette.

I took another quick look at him. He looked at me. His face was strained, but otherwise he seemed all right…

We approached the Buick. He lingered behind, and I moved to the driver’s window. The driver was about forty, with a cauliflower ear and a crooked nose and puffy cheeks. He hit me with his eyes, but not suspiciously.

‘You know you’re in a loading zone?’ I asked.

‘So what,’ he said.

‘Parking in a loading zone is a traffic violation,’ I said.

‘So what,’ he said.

I moved a step closer. Now I could see into the car. On the floor in front were six leather satchels. My heart skipped a beat or two at the sight of them minimum of fifteen thousand dollars; and I wondered what was wrong with the mentality of a man who could perfect a set-up like this, as Roamer had, and leave six satchels to be guarded by one frowzy punch-drunk chauffeur, while two men guarded the guy who only had one satchel. Fat, cocky and careless …

I took the book of traffic tickets and the pencil out of my pocket. ‘Let’s see your driver’s license,’ I said.

‘I got no license,’ he said.

‘That’s another violation of the law,’ I said. ‘Don’t you know that?’

The three guys came back to the Buick. The little one got in front with the satchel, but he didn’t see me until he had sat down. He was thirty, with black eyes that instantly flared. ‘Whadda you want?’ he said.

‘This man’s name,’ I said. ‘I’m going to write him a ticket.’

‘On your way, copper,’ he said.

The other two guys were seated in the back row. One of them rolled down the window. ‘What’s the beef?’ he asked.

‘Parking in a loading zone, no driver’s license …’

‘That’s a laugh,’ the little one said.

‘We park here every day, fellow,’ the guy who had rolled down the window said.

‘It’s a violation of the traffic ordinance …’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,’ the little guy said.

‘We work for Roamer, fellow,’ the guy in the back said, in a reasonable tone.

‘This is Roamer’s car,’ the other guy in the back said.

‘I don’t know Roamer,’ I said. ‘I’m new on the force. And it wouldn’t make any difference if I did.’

‘Look fellow,’ the reasonable one said. ‘You like your job? You wanna keep it? Then blow…’

Jinx strolled up to me. ‘These boys are getting tough,’ I said.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘you know what the sergeant said. Anybody tries to get tough, run ’em in …’

‘Lissen, for Christ’s sake,’ the guy in front said. ‘Don’t make a sucker outta yourself. Now, on your way…’

‘Let’s take ’em down,’ I said.

‘Sure,’ Jinx said.

‘Goddamn it!’ the guy in front said.

‘Shut up, Sid,’ the reasonable one said. ‘Lissen, bud,’ he said to me, ‘you don’t wanna do that. They’ll only turn us loose and you’ll get your ass eaten out…’

I smiled at Jinx. ‘The sergeant said they’d say that, didn’t he?’ I said. ‘You get up front with the others,’ I said to the reasonable guy. ‘If the sergeant wants to turn you loose, that’s his business.’

‘You’re only making it tough on yourself,’ the reasonable one said.

‘I’m just trying to do my job,’ I said. ‘Get up front.’

‘Jesus!’ he said. ‘A rookie cop …’

‘Screw these guys,’ Sid said. ‘Let’s go, Rushy.’

Rushy turned the switch key. This was the first sign of interest he had shown since the three guys had got in the car.

‘Hold it!’ I snapped. ‘Get up in front, you …’

Sid snarled something I couldn’t understand but the reasonable guy cut him off, saying: ‘Sid, don’t start anything about a parking ticket…’ and got out of the back into the front.

Jinx and I got in the back, flanking the other middle-weight, with him on my left. He was an average hoodlum, and thirty-five.

‘You know where Police Headquarters is?’ I said.

‘We know, goddamn it,’ Sid said.

‘That’s where we’re going,’ I said.

‘Go ahead, Rushy,’ the reasonable one said.

Rushy started the motor and put the car in gear and we moved away. I risked a quick look back. Pratt and Downey had pulled out from the kerb …

‘You fellows take your jobs too seriously,’ the reasonable one said.

‘We got our orders, mister,’ I said

‘You’re gonna get some new orders,’ Sid snarled.

‘If you’re a friend of the sergeant’s, that’s fine,’ I said.

‘If you’re a friend of the sergeant’s,’ Sid said. ‘That’s a scream for you. We don’t fool with sergeants. Roamer even tells Webber where to get off…’