Chapter 19
The Getaway
Fred knew trying to outsmart the FBI would not be easy since they were experts and he was just an amateur. Success would depend on meticulous planning, unpredictable behavior, and a lot of luck. The first problem was his car. Every law enforcement agency in southern California would be looking for his little maroon Ford Falcon. He could have rented another car, but rental cars were easy to trace, not to mention expensive. Stealing a car wasn't a viable option either, as Fred still considered himself to be a relatively honest person, presumed bank robber or not. He knew others might not see it that way, but it was important to him. The only solution he could come up with was to disguise the Ford Falcon or buy another car. The $5,000 he had available wasn't enough for a new car, so he’d have to buy a used one, and that scared him. The last thing he needed was an unreliable vehicle. He remembered seeing Kwik Paint commercials on TV advertising $99 paint jobs. That would probably be his best option, he thought.
Remembering he had seen a Kwik Paint location off of Hollywood Boulevard, he altered his route and headed for the Hollywood Freeway. Spotting the big Kwik Paint sign from the freeway, he exited and drove in. The paint job was supposed to take four hours: one hour to get the car ready, an hour to paint, and two hours to dry. That meant he could be on his way to San Bernardino by six. While his car was being painted, he did some shopping since he obviously couldn't go back to his apartment. He bought a suitcase, some clothes, and shoes. When he was done, there was still another hour to kill, so he stopped in a restaurant to eat dinner. Before he ate, he decided to make a few phone calls. He needed to check with Jim to see if he had heard anything new, and he wanted to call Candy to alert her that he was coming to see her. He found a phone booth, got some change, and proceeded to dial Candy's number. She answered on the first ring.
"Where have you been all day?” Candy asked irritably. “I've been trying to call you."
"It's a long story that I would like to tell you in person if you are game."
"Right now?"
"That was my plan."
"Good. I’ve been missing you."
"You have anything going on tomorrow?"
"No, nothing particular."
"Pack your bags then. We're going to take a little trip."
"Oh cool! Where are we going?"
"That's a surprise."
"Oh? A surprise? Hmm. I like surprises, but how will I know what to pack?”
“You’ll need warm clothes.”
“Okay. I'll be packed and ready to go when you get here. Are you leaving right now?"
"Yes, ma'am. See you soon."
He hung up the phone and proceeded to call Jim. A woman answered and when he asked to speak to Jim, she gave him the phone.
"Hey, I just wanted to call to see if you’d heard anything new . . . you know, about what we talked about yesterday."
"Actually, I did hear something from Sinclair just before I left work."
"What?"
"He said the FBI lost you, something about sabotage to their car. They're really pissed off at whoever helped you shake them."
"Oh God. Do they know who it was?"
"I don't think so, but they definitely think you're the thief now, especially since you went to all that trouble to ditch them."
"Shit!"
"Oh, and they're watching your two lady friends too. They're hoping one of them will turn on you."
"Well, I guess that makes sense. I was just on my way to see Candy. They haven’t talked to her yet. I hope they don’t try to make contact with her before I get there. She has no idea what’s going on."
"Be careful. She may be cooperating with them."
"I don’t think she would, but then, who knows? Thanks for the warning anyway."
"My pleasure. Now, don't disappoint me and let them bloody bastards catch you."
"I won't, Jim."
Fred’s newly painted dark blue Ford Falcon was parked outside the office of Kwik Paint. He walked around the vehicle, inspecting it carefully. It was a pretty good job, which surprised him. When he went inside to pay for the work and compliment them, a long-haired kid in a t-shirt was manning the cash register.
"I guess my car is ready—the Ford Falcon?"
"Yeah, here's the ticket. It comes to $103.95 with tax."
"You guys did a great job," Fred said appreciatively.
"It'll look good for about six months, and then you'll wish you went somewhere else."
Fred laughed. "Really? Why didn't you tell me that before I had it done?"
"Hey, I am not a salesman. I am just the cashier."
"Obviously," Fred agreed. "Well, if it lasts six months, I guess I'll be happy. It’s still a bargain. Thanks for your help."
It was past six, so Fred took off toward San Bernardino. There was just one more thing he had to do to further disguise his vehicle—the license plate. By now, it had been broadcast to every law enforcement officer in southern California. He had to change his plates, and he knew exactly where he could change them. He would need a big steak bone, however, so he stopped in at the first grocery store he saw and headed for the meat department to bum a steak bone from the butcher.
With a steak bone neatly wrapped up in butcher paper, he continued his journey. After about an hour, he pulled up about a block away from Loma Linda Auto Salvage. It was starting to get dark, and the yard looked deserted except for Prince. He hoped Prince would remember him, but he had brought the bone just in case.
With a screwdriver in his back pocket, he strolled slowly up to the fence that encircled the yard. Prince immediately charged the fence and jumped up, barking fiercely.
"Prince! Hey, hey now. Calm down. Remember me?"
Prince continued to bark, so Fred sat down in front of the fence and waited. After a while, he quit barking and paced back and forth behind the fence.
"Now Prince, I am going to climb the fence. Don't have a fit now. If you're a good dog, I've got a surprise for you."
By this time, Prince seemed to remember him, so Fred slowly climbed the chain-link fence and descended down the other side. Prince continued to bark and pace but was not threatening. Fred unwrapped the butcher paper and fed Prince the bone. Prince wagged his tail happily and ran off to savor his snack.
With Prince occupied, Fred searched for the '59 Ford Falcon from which he had procured a new door. It hadn't been moved since he’d seen it last. There were a few other parts missing, and the weeds had grown since he’d last seen it, but otherwise, it was fully intact. Checking out the front and back, he was relieved to find that the license plates were still there. With his screwdriver in hand, he removed the plates and replaced them with his. Not wanting Elmer to notice that the plates had been switched, he smeared them with mud to camouflage the numbers.
With his mission accomplished, he cautiously walked back to the fence and noticed that Prince was still munching happily on his bone. Fred walked over to the dog, stroked his thick fur a few times, and then climbed back over the fence.
"Goodbye, Prince. Good dog."
After putting on the new plates, he got back on the San Bernardino Freeway and continued to Candy's apartment. After about an hour, he saw the Palm Springs exit and got off the freeway. When he got to the street leading to Candy's apartment, a strange uneasiness overcame him. As he approached the apartment complex, he saw a car similar to the one that had been following him earlier. Not wanting to be recognized, he continued past the apartment complex and parked several blocks away.
Candy's apartment had a parking area in the rear that provided sufficient cover for him to make his way to the rear of her apartment without being seen. Once in the complex, he scanned the area for any sign of FBI agents, but it seemed quiet. He walked up to Candy's door and knocked gently. The door swung open, and Candy appeared with a big smile. He stepped inside, closed the door, and they kissed.
"Mmm. . . I missed your sweet lips," Fred said.
"Uh huh."
"I’m all ready to go," she said.
"Good. Where are your bags?"
"Right by the door."
"Okay. Get whatever else you need, and let's go."
Candy grabbed a large paper bag and a jacket, and they left.
"My car is in the back."
"In the back? How come?"
"Um, I couldn't find a parking spot out front."
"Gee. . . . I’ve never had that problem. Maybe's someone's having a party."
They slipped around back and walked down the alley until they finally arrived at Fred’s car.
"This isn't your car," Candy complained.
"Yes, it is. I got a paint job."
"You did? Why?"
"Don't you remember my door was blue and the rest of the car was maroon?"
"Oh, that's right. I had forgotten about that."
"Get in. Let's go."
Before long, they were on the open road, and Fred felt much better. He looked into his rearview mirror and was relieved to see that no one was behind them. He took a deep breath and smiled at Candy.
"Isn't this great?" he said. “There is nothing better than to hit the open road and embark on a new adventure, particularly with a beautiful woman to keep you company."
"When are you going to tell me where we’re going?" Candy asked expectantly.
"I guess now is as good a time as ever."
"Good. So where are we headed?"
"We're going to a place my parents took me to years ago called Devil's Canyon. We weren't intending to go there, actually . . . well, I better start from the beginning. It's a kind of long story."
"That's alright. I want to hear it."
Uncommon Thief Page 19