"Or drove the armored car . . ."
"No."
I racked my brains this way for an hour before he relented and explained. "All your suggestions have merit, but all are dangerous. You are far more physical than I ever was. In my operations I always preferred brains to brawn. The reason that I never had to break into the box and extract the money is that the box was empty when it left the building. Or rather it was weighted with bricks as well as my card. Can you guess now how it was done?"
"Never left the building," I muttered, trying to stir my brain to life. "But it was loaded into the box, the box put into the truck . . . "
"You are forgetting something."
I snapped my fingers and leapt to my feet. "The wall, of course it had to be the wall. You gave me all the clues, I was just being dense. Old, made of stone, two meters thick!"
"Exactly so. It took me four months to break in, I wore out three robots doing it, but I won out in the end. First I bought the building across the road from the mint and we tunneled under it. With pick and shovel. Very slow, very silent. Up through the foundations of the building and inside the wall. Which proved to have an outer and inner stone wall, and as is the building custom, it was filled with rubble in between. Our diamond saws were never heard when we opened the side of the armored vault connecting the inside of the mint with the outside. The mechanism I installed could change boxes in one point oh five seconds. When the inner door was closed, the lock had to be thrown before the outer door could be opened. That was enough time, almost three seconds, to allow for the switch. They never did find out how I did it. The mechanism is still in place. But the operation was basically misdirection, along with a lot of digging. Computer crime is something else altogether. Basically it is an intellectual exercise."
"But isn't computer theft almost impossible these days, with codes and interlocks?"
"What man can code or lock, man can decode and unlock. Without leaving any trace. I will give you some examples. Let us begin with the rounding-off' caper, also called the salami. Here is how it works. Let us say that you have 8,000 bucks in the bank, in a savings account that earns eight percent a year. Your bank compounds your account weekly in order to get your business. Which means at the end of the first week your bank multiplies your balance by .0015384 percent and adds this sum to your balance. Your balance has increased by 12.30 bucks. Is that correct? Check it on your calculator. "
I punched away at the sum and came up with the same answer.
"Exactly twelve bucks and thirty centimes interest," I said proudly.
"Wrong," he said deflatingly. "The interest was 12.3072, wasn't it?"
"Well, yes, but you can't add seventy-two-hundredths of a centime to someone's account, can you?"
"Not easily, since financial accounts are kept to two decimal places. Yet it is at this precise moment in the calculations that the bank has a choice. It can round all decimals above .005 up to the nearest centime, all those below .0049 down to zero. At the end of a day's trading the rounding-ups and rounding-downs will average out very close to zero so the bank will not be out of pocket. Or, and this is the accepted practice, the bank can throw away all decimal places after the first two, thereby making a small but consistent profit. Small on banking terms-but very large as far as an individual is concerned. If the bank's computer is rigged so that all the rounding-downs are deposited to a single account, why at the end of the day the computer will show the correct balance in the bank's account and in the client's accounts. Everyone will be quite pleased."
I was punching like fury into my calculator, then chuckled with glee at the results. "Exactly so. All are pleased-- including the holder of that account that now holds the round-downs. For if only a half a centime is whipped from ten-thousand accounts, the profit is a round fifty bucks!"
"Exactly. But a large bank will have a hundred times that number of accounts. Which is, as I know from happy experience, a weekly income of five-thousand bucks for whoever sets up this seam."
"And this, this is your smallest and simplest bit of computer tomfoolery?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"It is. When one begins to access large corporative computers, the sums become unbelievable. It is such a pleasure to operate at these levels. Because if one is careful and leaves no traces, the corporations have no idea that they have even been fiddled! They don't want to know about it, don't even believe it when faced with the evidence. It is very hard to get convicted of computer crime. It is a fine hobby for one of my mature years. It keeps me busily engaged and filthy rich. I have never been caught. Ahh, yes, except once. . . ." He sighed heavily and I felt mortified.
"My fault!" I cried. "If I had not tried to contact you, why you would never have got involved with the Feds."
"No guilt, Jim, feel no guilt over that. I misjudged their security controls, far more rigid than the ones I had been dealing with. It was my mistake-and I certainly paid for it. Am still paying. I am not decrying the safety of our refuge here, but this junk food begins to wear on one after a bit. Or perhaps you haven't noticed?"
"This is the staff of life of my generation."
"Of course. I had not thought of that. The horse tires not of hay, the porcuswine will snuffle up his swill greedily unto eternity. "
"And you could probably tuck into lobster and champagne for the next century. "
"Well-observed and correct, my boy. How long do you think that we shall be here?" he asked, pushing away half of an unconsumed portion of crumptumps.
"I would say a minimum of two weeks more." A shudder shivered his frame.
"It will be a good opportunity for me to reduce."
"By that time the heat of the chase will have died down considerably. We will still have to avoid public transportation for a good while after that. However I have prepared an escape route that should be secure fairly soon."
"Dare I ask what it is?"
"A boat, rather a cabin cruiser on the Sticks River. I bought it some time ago, in a corporative name, and it is at the marina just outside Biliville."
"Excellent!" He rubbed his hands with glee. The end of summer, a cruise south, fried catfish in the evening, bottles of wine cooling in the stream, steaks at riverside restaurants."
"And a sex change for me." He blinked rapidly at that, then sighed with relief when I explained. "I'll wear girl's clothes when I'm aboard and can be seen from the shore, at least until we are well away from here."
"Capital. I shall lose some weight-there will be no difficulty dieting here. Raise a moustache, then a beard, die my hair black again. It is something to look forward to. But shall we say one month instead of two weeks? I could last that amount of time incarcerated in this gustatorial ghetto as long as I would not be eating. My figure will be the better for the extra weeks, my hair and moustache longer. "
"I can do it if you can."
"Then it is agreed. And we shall make the most of the time now by forwarding your education? RAM, ROM, and FROM will be the order of the day."
I was too busy with my studies to be bothered by the omnipresent odor of barbecued porcuswineburgers. Besides that, I could still eat them. So as my comprehension grew of all the varied possibilities of illegality in our society, so did my companion's figure fade. I wanted to leave earlier, but The Bishop, having made up his mind, would not be swayed.
"Once a plan is made it must always be followed to the letter. It should only be changed if outside circumstances change. Man is a rationalizing animal and needs training in order to become a rational one. Reasons can always be found for altering an operation." He shuddered as the machines speeded up with a roar; school was out, then crossed off one more day on his calendar. "An operation well-planned will work. Meddle with it and you destroy it. Ours is a good plan. We will stay with it."
He was far leaner and harder when the day of our exodus finally arrived. He had been tried in the gustatory furnace and had been tempered by it. I had put on weight. Our plans were made, our few belongings packed, the s
afe cleaned out of all of its bucks-and all trace of our presence eliminated. In the end we could only sit in silence, looking again and again at our watches.
When the alarm sounded we were on our feet, smiling with pleasure.
I turned off the alarm as The Bishop opened the door of the freezer room. As the key turned in the outer lock we closed the door behind us. Stood and shivered in MacSwineys' mausoleum while we listened to the mechanic enter the room we had so recently left.
"Hear that?" I asked. "He's adjusting the icer on the cherry oozer dispenser, I thought it sounded funny."
"I prefer not to discuss the contents of the ghastly gourmet gallery. Is it time to go yet?"
"Time." I eased open the outer door and blinked at the light of day, unseen for so long. Other than the service van the street was empty. "Here we go."
We shuffled out and I sealed the door behind us. The air was sweet and fresh and filled with lovely pollution. Even I had had my fill of cooking odors. As The Bishop hurried to the van I slipped the two wedges into the outer door to our chamber of culinary horrors. If the mechanic tried to get out before his appointed time, these would slow him down. We only needed about fifteen minutes.
The Bishop was a dab hand with a lockpick and had the van open and the door swinging wide even as I turned about. He dived into the back among the machine parts as I started the engine.
It was just that easy. I dropped him close to the marina, where he sat on a bench in the sunshine, keeping an eye on our possessions. After that it was simplicity itself to leave the purloined van in the parking lot of the nearest liquor store. Then I strolled, not ran, back to the riverside to rejoin him.
"It's the white boat, that one there," I pointed it out, pressing on my moustache with my other hand at the same time to make sure that it was securely in place. "The entire marina is fully automated. I'll get the boat and bring it back here."
"Our cruise is about to begin," he said, and there was a merry twinkle in his eye.
I left him there in the sunlight and went to the marina to insert the boat's identification into the operations robot.
"Good morning," it said in a tinny voice. "You wish to take out the cabin cruiser Lucky Bucks. The batteries have been recharged at a cost of twelve bucks. Storage charges..."
It went on like that, reading aloud all the charges that could Be clearly seen on the screen-presumably for customers who couldn't read-and there was nothing that could be done about it. I stood on one foot and then the other until it was finished, then pumped in the coins. The machine gurgled and spat out my receipt. Still strolling, I went to the boat, inserted the receipt, then waited for the welcome click when the chain unlocked. Seconds later I was out on the river and heading for the solitary figure on the bank.
Solitary no more. A girl sat beside him.
I circled out and around and she was still there. The Bishop sat slumped and gave me no sign what to do. I circled once more, then the sight of a patrolling police car sent me burbling to the bank. The girl stood and waved, then called out.
"Why little Jimmy diGriz, as I live and breathe. What a lovely surprise."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Life had had far too many moments like this lately. I looked at the girl more closely as I eased the boat against the bank. She knew me, I should know her; smashingly good-looking, her blouse filled to perfection. Those tulip lips, her!-object of my wildest dreams. "Is that you Beth? Beth Naratin?" "How sweet of you to remember me!"
I was ready to jump ashore with the' mooring line, but she took it from my hand and tied it to the bollard there. Over her shoulder I saw the police cruiser go past and keep on cruising. Then glanced at The Bishop, who simply raised his eyes to heaven as she spoke.
"I said to myself, Beth, I said, that can't be Jimmy diGriz climbing out of that old MacSwineys van and wearing a cute little moustache. Not Jimmy who has been in the news so much lately. If it is, why don't I just mosey after him, for old times' sake. Then I saw you talk to this nice gentleman here, before you went off to the marina, so I just made up my mind to wait for you to come back. Going on a trip, are you?"
"No, no trip, just a little day excursion up the river and back. Nice seeing you again, Beth. "
That was the only nice part about this. Seeing her, I mean. The object of my childish worship. She had left school soon after I had entered-but she was hard to forget. Four years older than me, a real mature woman. That would make her twenty-one now. She had been head of her class, winner of the Beauty Queen of the Year.
With good reason. Now, old as she was, she was still a smasher. Her voice sliced through my memories.
"I don't think that you are being exactly truthful, Jimmy. Why with all these bags and things I bet that you are going on a long cruise. If I were you I would consider a long cruise a really good idea. "
Was there a different tenor to her voice with these last words? What did she want? We couldn't hang around here much longer. She made her wants clear when she jumped aboard, rocking the boat at its mooring.
"Always room for one more!" she called out cheerfully, then went to sit in the bow. I stepped ashore and grabbed up the bags. Then whispered to The Bishop. "She knows me. What do we do?"
He sighed in answer. "Very little that we can do. For the present we have a passenger. I suggest that we consider this problem once we are under way. After all-we have no choice,"
Too true. I passed our belongings over to him, then struggled to untie the black knot that she had tied in the line. Gave the Lucky Bucks a kick out with my foot, jumped aboard, and took the wheel. The Bishop carried the cases below as I switched on the power and headed downstream. Away from Biliville, Macswineys and the law.
But not from Beth. She lay stretched out on the deck before me, skirt hiked up so I could admire those gorgeous lengths of leg. I did this. Then she turned about and smiled, clearly able to read my mind. I forgot about my planned female disguise at this moment-imagining the jeering that would greet my sex change. I was getting angry.
"All right, Beth, why don't you just spell it out," I said, hauling my gaze bodily out to the clear waters of the river. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Stop the games. You have been watching the news, that's what you said. So you know about me."
"Sure do. Know you hold up banks and escape from jail. That doesn't bother me though. I had a bitsy bit of difficulty myself. So when I saw you, then this boat, I knew you must have some money. Maybe a lot of money. So I just jumped at the chance to take this trip with you. Isn't that nice?"
"No." I kept my thoughts on the law and not the legs. She was trouble. "And I do have a bit of money put aside. If I get you some, put you ashore . . ."
"The money, yes. The shore, no. I've seen the last of him and Biliville. I'm going to see the world now. And you are going to pay my way."
She snuggled down, with her arms for a pillow, smiling as she enjoyed the sunshme. I looked on gloomily and thought of three or four blows that would snap that delicate neck. . . .
Not even as a joke. This problem could be solved- and without deadly violence. We hummed along, the water parting in white foam at our bow, Biliville behind us and green fields opening up ahead at the bend in the river. The Bishop came on deck and sat next to me. With her third presence there was nothing much we could say.
We continued in silence this way for the better part of an hour, until a dock beside a general store appeared ahead. Beth stirred and sat up, running her fingers through that gorgeous blond hair.
"You know what-I'm hungry. Bet you are too. Why don't you pull up over there and I'll jump ashore and get us some food and some beer. Isn't that a good idea?"
"Great!" I agreed. She goes into the store, we go into high gear and away.
"I am skint," she smiled. "Stone broke. If you give me a few bucks I'll buy lunch. I think a thousand will do." Her sweet-little-girl expression never changed while she said this and I wondered just what kind of trouble she was in. Extortion and blackmail
maybe; she certainly had the qualifications for that. I dug deep into my wallet.
"That's nice," she said, thumbing through the bundle with glowing eyes. "I won't be long. And I know you will be here, Jimmy, along with your friend. Haven't I seen him in the news broadcasts too?"
I glowered after the lovely rotations of her rump as she trotted towards the store.
"Got our hides nailed to the wall," The Bishop said gloomily.
"Nailed, flayed, and tanned. What do we do?"
"Exactly what she says for the time being. Short of killing her, we have very little choice. But I do not believe in killing."
"Nor do I. Although this is the first time that I have understood the temptation."
"What do you know about her?"
"Nothing-since I last saw her in school. She says she is in trouble, but I have no idea what she means."
He nodded in thought. "When we are well away from her I'll get close to a terminal. If she is in the police records I can dig her out."
"Will that do us any good?"
"I have no idea, dear boy. We can only try. Meanwhile we must make the best of the situation. We are well away from the terrors of the pork palace, safely away from our pursuers as well. As long as this creature gets money from us we are safe. For the moment. And you must admit that she. is decorative."
I had no answer to that and could only sit glumly until our uninvited passenger returned.
After lunch we continued our voyage downstream. Exhausted by the morning of sunbathing, Beth went below for a beauty nap. The Bishop wanted a turn at the wheel sol showed him the simple controls and pointed out the navigation markers. We had very little to say to each other. But we were thinking a lot. In midafternon the object of our fierce cogitation trotted up from below.
"Such a cute little ship," she gushed. "The cutest little girls' room, little kitchen, and everything. But only two little beds. How in the world will we all sleep?"
"In shifts," I growled, the sound of her voice already getting to me.
"You always were a card, Jimmy. I think it best if I sleep below. You and your friend can make do."
The Stainless Steel Rat is Born Page 11