Tempted by Trouble (21 page)

I nodded and faced my wife. “I see the choices you’ve made, but I haven’t heard why.”

“I was done. Do you hear me, Dmytryk? I was done. I’d had enough. I quit.”

“You quit?”

“Yes, I quit.”

“This isn’t high school, Cora. And if standing before God meant nothing to you—”

“God means everything to me.”

“Walking out is not the way to dissolve a marriage. Whether we’re rich or poor, we’re married, so we are rich or poor together.
¿Comprendes, mujer?
”

“I couldn’t stand one more day with you. And seeing you now, this brings back all of the stress. I feel it in my back. I feel it in my neck. I feel it in my jaw. I feel it in my head. I’m in a vise grip. It feels like I’m back in Detroit. It feels like I’m back inside that house. It feels like I’m back onstage dancing. And I hate the way I feel. I hate the way I feel when I think about you. I hate everything we ever had.”

“You hated me.”

“I look at you and see failure. Nothing has changed.”

“I’m your husband. Your failures are mine and mine are yours.”

I looked at Eddie Coyle. He looked like he had a lot to say but was chewing his words.

Cora shot me a quick glance before her eyes returned to Eddie Coyle. Eddie Coyle had done an excellent job of stealing her balance. Seeing her had done the same for me.

I said, “You’re pushing the envelope on this one, Eddie Coyle.”

Cora shook her head and put her eyes back on her menu. After that, she didn’t move.

Eddie Coyle said, “Cora Knight, this is where you can change sides of the table and there will be no argument, no penalty, no attitude. We can still move forward and work as a team.”

She took her fedora off, placed it on the table, then took it off the table and placed it on the bench, before she ran her hand over her hair, clenched her teeth, shook her head, did every move slowly.

I said, “Is there a problem, wife?”

“Don’t call me
wife
anymore.”

Eddie Coyle said, “Well, I guess that since the truth is out in the open, we can work together?”

“The damage is done. Can you do this, Cora?”

She nodded. “It’s too late to turn this deal around. Time is running out.”

I smiled. “You’ve robbed me and now you need me to help you commit a crime.”

Eddie Coyle said, “This will benefit you, Dmytryk.”

“I’m talking to Cora, Eddie Coyle. I’m having a conversation with my wife.”

It hurt her, but she nodded. “There isn’t a lot of time and you’re familiar.”

I said, “Since we’re working together, we need to make sure we can be . . . cordial. If we can’t be
friends,
for lack of a better word, then we can’t work together. If we can’t be professional, then this marriage will not work. I know how to make a marriage work, no matter how contentious. Respect and trust. We don’t have to have respect, but we need trust to get to the other side of this thing.”

She said, “You can trust me, Dmytryk.”

“Really?”

“When it comes to money, you have nothing to worry about. I never stole a dime from you. When I left, I didn’t take anything. I took nothing from you. You can never say I robbed you.”

“What about you, Eddie Coyle? Can I trust you?”

He said, “I might have that gun you touched the night we were in Detroit.”

“The gun with my fingerprints. Do you still have that?”

“If I do, I’ve never given you reason for alarm.”

“Not yet.”

“If I have it, it’s for my own protection.”

“I guess I’m supposed to say thank you for not setting me up.”

“I’ve never stabbed you in your back.”

“Well, that’s debatable. My wife is sitting on your side of the table.”

Cora jumped in. “Both of you, just stop it. Now, for the scorecards, I’m legally married to you, Dmytryk, but I’m sorry, really sorry, things have changed and I’m . . . at the moment I’m with Eddie Coyle. This meeting was supposed to be for introducing me to Eddie Coyle’s team member, and I will do my best to treat the meeting as such. Now, men, put your peckers away and let’s move on, let’s get the ball rolling on this job and do what we’re supposed to do and then . . . Dmytryk can drive back to Detroit. That’s what he’s married to. Detroit and a crummy house that we should’ve walked away from two years ago. Give him his cut and send him back to that damn house he cares so much about.”

My finger tested the trigger. The first shot would be under the table, right between Eddie Coyle’s legs. The shock would slow him down, but the animal instinct would kick in and he would still come after me. I would have to shoot him in the head, shoot him the same way that guard shot Sammy. And after I blew Eddie Coyle’s mind, while Cora screamed and panicked and tried to climb over the table the way Jackie Kennedy had tried to climb out of that convertible in Dallas, I’d give my wife a two- or three-bullet divorce. That scene played in my mind over and over, but I wouldn’t go to jail. Not for her. Not over Eddie Coyle. I wouldn’t rot in jail and I wouldn’t let the state put me to death, not for this. One shot underneath this table and it would all come together and fall apart at the same time. I’d have to save a bullet for myself. I’d be on the same train with Sammy and Rick, dead and ready to be laid to rest in a wooden box.

Cora said, “Dmytryk, the way you saw the marriage and the way I saw the marriage is totally different. I ended up on a stage dancing next to women whose bodies were covered with tramp stamps.”

“You’re blaming our situation on me? The auto industry goes under and it’s my goddamn fault? Maybe you should cut that reasoning open and get a better autopsy. You’re revising history, Cora.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “I danced naked and it disgusted me, but I did it because it kept the lights on. I danced naked and brought the money home to you . . . like you were my pimp.”

“So you’re the victim. And what was I?”

“You were the man.”

“You’re insane, Cora. I delivered pizzas. But I never thought of you as being my pepperoni pimp. I picked up students and taught when I could. We were a team.”

“But I was naked. That’s how I felt.”

“Don’t be one of those women, Cora.”

“One of what women? Which women are you talking about this time, you chauvinistic pig?”

“One of those women who needs to play the victim.”

“I danced naked.”

“I told you not to dance. You did it behind my back.”

“Eddie Coyle never would have let me dance.”

“But he would put dollars in your thong while you did. And he would let you rob banks. That’s not protecting you. Fifth-graders have better logic.”

She paused and rubbed her temples. “You think you’re smarter than me.”

“I’m at the same table as you. I married you. And I’ve allowed you to ruin my life. One could say my level of intelligence has diminished as well.”

“This is why I don’t argue with you. This is why I . . . I just left.”

“For Eddie Coyle.”

“I didn’t leave you for Eddie.”

“Oh. Now he’s Eddie. To you he’s Eddie.”

“He was there for me.”

“When you’re drowning, you don’t pay attention to who throws a life preserver to you.”

She took a breath and shook her head. “Why did you marry me, Dmytryk?”

“Because I loved you. I loved you.”

Nothing was said for a moment. The sounds of knives and forks on plates and hearty conversations filled the room, and our resentment and frustration heated all the love and joy in the room during this Christmas season.

Eddie Coyle said, “Putting this meeting on task, what’s your objective, Cora?”

“There is only one objective in America, and I’ve learned that.”

I sat back and nodded. “Then, as you said, let’s keep it about the bottom line.”

She nodded in return. “If we can stay focused, you boys can help me do this.”

I paused. “We can help you?”

Cora nodded. “This is my job, Dmytryk. Eddie Coyle brought you here to work for me.”

Eddie Coyle said, “Your job? Believe that crap if you want. I’m the one with the experience. I’m the one who knows what to look for and how to make this work.”

Cora spoke in a harsh whisper. “This is my job. You work for me too.”

Eddie Coyle adjusted himself and stared her down. “It was my idea from day one.”

“I’m using my connections. You talked the talk, but I’m walking the walk. It’s my job.”

“You know my résumé. So tell me, what the hell do you know about hitting a bank?”

“I know about dye packs, about those electronic tracers that are like GPS trackers. I know which banks carry those tracers and which ones don’t, and that if you show a gun the jail time is different than if you show a note. I know not to go in acting crazy and shooting because everything gets out of control. And I know who is going to be working in the bank we need to hit and on what day we need to hit that bank and at what time that hit should be done so we can be in and out of that bank in a minute. I know which banks don’t have bulletproof glass yet. I know the minimum amount of money that is supposed to be on hand on the day we do this job, and the exact time the money will be on hand, and I know to tell them to keep away from the silent alarm. I know the bank we’re going to hit from top to bottom and wall to wall. I know when patrol cars won’t be in the area. I know about needing a fourth person to be our driver and lookout, and that that person needs to be dependable because they are our eyes and ears and we’ll know the moment somebody dials nine-one-one. I know about needing two cars to get away, and that the best place to steal those cars is at the mall. I know we have to switch the plates on the stolen cars and dump the first getaway car for a second getaway car, and then dump the second car for a third that has legal plates. I know we have to change getaway cars within three- to five-minute intervals, and that we should be inside the third car within ten minutes. I know which escape routes to take once we leave the bank and not to leave any fingerprints or physical evidence behind. I know to wear disguises that change our features and chins, and to wear shades because they can zoom in on our eyes and the distance from eyeball to eyeball can’t be changed with makeup. I know that in order to make any of this happen, the person in charge needs to know the perfect time, bank procedures, staffing, the building setup, cameras, exits, the vault, and I repeat that I know all of that. Now what the hell do you know, Eddie Coyle?”

Her speech had given me pause.

Eddie Coyle sat back, not possessing the skills it took to argue with the woman I had married.

I said, “Sounds like you’ve been busy since you left Detroit.”

“Well, I haven’t been waiting on a president to come save me.”

“You’re working banks all over the Midwest?”

“Where I’ve been and what I’ve done since you last saw me in Detroit is none of your concern. All you need to know is what this job is about. I’m not comfortable with that, but this late in the game, I guess I have no choice. I’m tempted to step out on faith and do this on my own.”

Eddie Coyle jumped in. “Well, Cora, you may know how to bake that cake, but you don’t have the balls to put it in the oven.”

“I have the balls.”

“Not on this job.”

“Ask Dmytryk. The job we did in Oklahoma, I’m the one who walked inside the bank. That’s who has the balls. That’s who puts it all on the line. I have the balls and I went in alone.”

“Just because you went inside the bank doesn’t make you the man in charge and it does not make Dmytryk a lackey. Do it yourself. Run inside a bank all by yourself. You step outside and your ride is gone or you’re blocked in and you’ll pass bricks through your sphincter. And hitting a little bank in Guthrie, Oklahoma, does not make you a superstar in this business.”

“Three banks, not including the one I did with Dmytryk.”

“My point stands.”

She snapped, “Eddie, go juggle yourself.”

I took a breath. “So let me get this right, Eddie Coyle. Cora’s running this job, and you don’t know jack, is that right?”

“I know where the money is located. She knows when the money will be on hand, and in order to get his cut, her inside man is making it a walk in the park. But she can’t do it alone. She doesn’t have the wherewithal or the guts to walk in this location and walk out with the money. That dog barks, but that dog don’t hunt.”

I lowered my head, grunted, then raised my head and saw bad luck dressed in policeman blue. Right then eight police officers entered the establishment, the winter air seeming colder in their presence. Rick and the guard had died and it felt like I had been set up, and what I felt showed in my eyes. Eddie Coyle looked back, saw the officers, waved me off, then drank his water. A waiter went to the officers, motioned for them to follow. They were brought in my direction. Four officers were seated two booths behind me. The other four were seated two booths behind Eddie Coyle.

Our waiter finally came. We’d never put our menus down to show we were ready, so they had waited until we did. We ordered. The waiter took the menus and left the tension at our table.

Eddie Coyle regarded me. “Are you in? Or will this job be more than you can bear?”

“Enough talk, Eddie Coyle. Let’s be the men we are and seal this deal.”

Surrounded by cops, Eddie Coyle put his hand out and we shook on it. Now we were married to the deal. We were married until death did us part, for better or for worse.

Eddie Coyle said, “Now that you’re in, I’ll tell you something else.”

“What else?”

“We’re looking at more than twenty each on this one.”

“How much more?”

He smiled. “We’ll talk about it. Just wanted you to know the real deal.”

The sensation of possibly coming into a small fortune didn’t last. What I wanted was priceless.