Eight Black Horses
Page 7
‘Steel.’
‘And another door after that one.’
‘Yes, with another pad and a second set of numbers.’
‘And inside there’s the safe with still more numbers.’
‘Yes.’
‘Think it was fuckin’ Fort Knox they got there.’ Charlie said.
‘Not quite,’ the Deaf Man said, and smiled.
‘Still. Three sets of fuckin’ numbers.’
‘Don’t worry about the numbers,’ the Deaf Man said. ‘You’ll have them memorized long before you actually use them.’
‘Yeah,’ Charlie said.
‘Before we’re through, you’ll know those numbers the way you know your own name.’
‘Well, yeah,’ Charlie said.
‘Does that bother you? Learning the numbers?’
‘No, no, I just don’t want anything to go wrong, that’s all.’
‘Nothing’ll go wrong if we’re prepared for the eventuality of something going wrong. It’s possible, of course, that you’ll forget those combinations even after we’ve gone over them a thousand times. But it’s not probable.’
‘I don’t even know what that means, probable,’ Charlie said.
‘A possibility is something that is capable of happening or being true without contradicting proven facts, laws, or circumstances. A probability, on the other hand, is something that is likely to happen or to be true. To put it in simpler terms...’
‘Yeah, please,’ Charlie said.
‘It is possible that our Christmas Eve adventure may go terribly awry, in which case we will both spend a good deal of time behind bars. It is probable, however, that all will go as planned, and we’ll come out of it richer by half a million dollars.’
‘Which we split three ways, right?’ Charlie said. ‘You, me, and Lizzie.’
‘Three ways, yes,’ the Deaf Man said.
Charlie nodded, but he looked troubled. ‘Just two broads inside the vault there, huh?’ he said.
‘Just the cashier and her assistant, yes.’
‘And you want me to take care of both of them, huh?’
‘Immediately. As soon as you’re in the vault.’
‘Well, that’s the easy part, taking care of them,’ Charlie said.
‘What’s the hard part?’ the Deaf Man asked.
‘Well ... learning the combinations, I guess. There’s eighteen numbers to learn, you know. Six on each of those pads.’
‘You’ll learn them, don’t worry. You mustn’t think of them as a single set of eighteen numbers. ‘They’ll be easier to remember if you think of them as three separate sets of six numbers each.’
‘Yeah,’ Charlie said.
‘Three separate and distinct combinations.’
’Yeah.’
‘In fact,’ the Deaf Man said, smiling, ‘combinations are a good way of differing between possibility and probability.’
Charlie looked at him blankly.
‘Let’s start with something simple,’ the Deaf Man said. ‘Take two numbers. How many possible ways are there of arranging those two numbers?’
‘Two?’ Charlie asked uncertainly.
‘Exactly. If the numbers are, for example, one and two, you can either arrange them as one-two or two-one. There are no other possibilities capable of being true without contradicting proven facts, laws, or circumstances. Now let’s add another number. The number three. We now have three numbers. One, two, and three. How many possible ways can we arrange those three numbers?’
‘Easy,’ Charlie said. ‘Three ways.’
‘Wrong. They can be arranged in six different ways. Here,’ he said, and picked up a pencil and moved a pad into place on the table. Writing swiftly, he listed the six possible combinations of the numbers one, two, and three:
1-2-3
1-3-2
2-1-3
2-3-1
3-1-2
3-2-1
‘Hey, how about that?’ Charlie said.
‘The way one calculates the possible ways of arranging any amount of numbers is to multiply the highest number by the one below it and then multiply the result by the number below that, and so on. For example, we have three numbers: one, two, and three. All right, we multiply three by two and we get six. Then we multiply six by one, and we get six again. The answer is six. And, as we just saw, there are, in fact, only six possible ways of arranging those three numbers.’
‘I was never good in arithmetic,’ Charlie said.
‘It gets more complicated when there are more numbers,’ the Deaf Man said. ‘For example, those pads outside each of the doors have nine numbers on them. Do you realize how many possible ways there are of arranging those nine numbers?’
Again Charlie looked at him blankly.
‘Well,’ the Deaf Man said, ‘do the multiplication. Nine by eight by seven by six by five by four and so on down to one. Nine times eight is seventy-two. Seventy-two times seven is five hundred and four. Five hundred and four times six is three thousand and twenty four. And so on. If you carry it all the way through, you’ll discover that there are three hundred and sixty-two thousand, eight hundred and eighty possible ways of arranging nine numbers. What, I ask you, is the probability—the likelihood—of anyone accidentally hitting upon the combination of six numbers that will unlock the outer door? And a different combination of six numbers for the inner door? And yet a third combination for the safe itself?’
‘There ain’t no way to figure that,’ Charlie said, shaking his head.
“Well, there is, but it would take forever. Which is exactly why combination locks were invented.’
‘Which is why Lizzie was invented, you mean.’
‘Yes, of course,’ the Deaf Man said, smiling. ‘To provide us with the combinations.’
‘For which she gets a third of the take,’ Charlie said, looking troubled again. ‘You think that’s fair?’
‘Do I think what’s fair?’
‘Her getting a third.’
‘Without her we wouldn’t be going in at all.’
‘Yeah, well,’ Charlie said, ‘it ain’t us going in, it’s me going in.’
‘I know that.’
‘Yeah, but you just said we’d be going in.’
‘One of us has to be outside,’ the Deaf Man said. ‘You know that.’ He hesitated and then asked, ‘Would you rather I went in?’
‘Well, I guess I look more the part,’ Charlie said.
‘Exactly.’
‘Still.’
‘What is it, Charlie?’ the Deaf Man said. ‘Tell me everything that’s troubling you. I don’t want any problems, not now and not later either.’
‘Okay, here’s what’s botherin’ me,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m the one goes in the vault with a gun. I’m the one has to take care of the two broads in there. You’re waitin’ outside, and Lizzie ain’t nowhere even near the scene. So, okay, it was your idea, the whole heist. I ain’t begrudgin’ you your share, especially since you’re the one takes the fall if they catch you with the loot, by which time I’m already home free. But where does Lizzie come off takin’ a third when all she done is give us the layout?’
‘And the combinations.’
‘Yeah, well, the combinations.’
‘Without which there wouldn’t be a job at all.’
‘It’s just a question of what’s fair, that’s all,’ Charlie said. ‘You and me are takin’ the biggest risks...’
‘In a sense, Charlie,’ the Deaf Man said gently, ‘you’re the one who’s taking the greatest risk.’
‘Well, thank you,’ Charlie said, ‘I’m glad you said that, I really am. But it’s your job, and fair is fair. And also you’re taking a risk, too. It’s that Lizzie ain’t takin’ no risk at all.’
‘Maybe you’ve got a point.’
‘I think I do.’
‘I’ll have to talk to her. What would you suggest, Charlie?’
‘Well, there’s five hundred K in that vault, supposed to be five hundred K, anyway
...’
‘Perhaps more.’
‘So I thought, if we gave Lizzie a hundred thou for setting it up, then you and me split the rest.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ the Deaf Man said. ‘Fair is fair.’
‘It is.’
‘We’ll give Lizzie a flat hundred, as you suggest. But I’ll take only a hundred and fifty, and you’ll get the lion’s share, two hundred and fifty.’
‘Hey, no, I wasn’t suggesting nothing like that,’ Charlie said.
‘Fair is fair, Charlie.’
‘Well,’ Charlie said.
‘Does that please you?’
‘Well, if it’s okay with you.’
‘It’s fine with me.’
‘‘Cause I didn’t want to say nothin’ about like I’m the one lookin’ at two counts of murder, you know what I mean?’
‘I know exactly what you mean. And I appreciate it.’
‘And I appreciate what you’re doin’, too, the jester you just made. I really appreciate that, Den.’
‘Good. Are we agreed then?’
‘I couldn’t be happier,’ Charlie said, and then looked troubled again.
‘What is it?’ the Deaf Man asked.
‘You think she’ll go along with it? Lizzie?’
‘Oh, I’m sure she will.’
‘I hope so. I wouldn’t want her blowin’ the wlnsile ‘cause she thinks she ain’t gettin’ what she should be gettin’.’
‘No, don’t worry about that, Charlie.’
‘Where is she, anyway?’ Charlie asked. ‘Shouldn’t she be here when we go over all this shit?’
‘She’s done her job already,’ the Deaf Man said. ‘She’s no longer needed.’
He looked at Charlie, wondering if he even suspected that once he carried that cash out of the vault he’d have done his job and he, too, would no longer be needed.
‘Now then,’ he said, ‘the combinations.’
‘Yeah, the fuckin’ combinations,’ Charlie said.
‘Think of them as three different sets, Charlie, forget that there are eighteen numbers in all.’
‘Okay, yeah.’
‘Can you give me the first set? The six numbers for the outer door?’
‘Seven-six-one, three-two...’
‘Wrong.’
‘Seven-six-one...’
‘Yes?’
‘Three-two...’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Three-two...’
‘No, it’s two-three.’
‘Oh. Yeah. Two-three, yeah. Two-three-eight.’
‘And the inner door?’
‘Nine-two-four, three-eight-five.’
‘Correct. And the safe?’
‘Two-four-seven, four-six-three.’
‘Good, Charlie. Try it from the top again.’
‘Seven-six-one. Two-three-eight.’
‘Again.’
‘Seven-six-one, two-three-eight.’
‘Again.’
‘Seven-six-one, two-three-eight.’
‘And the inner door?’
‘Nine-two-four...’
* * * *
CHAPTER FIVE
Eight, four, three, Brown thought.
He was looking at the squadroom bulletin board where the Deaf Man’s little billets-doux were tacked in a row under the wanted flyers and a notice advising that the Detective Division’s annual Mistletoe Ball would be held on Wednesday night, December 14.
Eight black horses, four police hats, and three pairs of handcuffs. Six, five, he thought. In police radio code, 10-5 meant repeat message.
But this was a six-five.
Six police shields and five walkie-talkies.
Goddamn Deaf Man, Brown thought, and went lo the coatrack in the corner of the room. He had dressed this morning in a bulky red plaid mackinaw, which made him look even bigger and meaner than he normally did. Blue woolen watch cap on his head. Bright red muffler around his throat. Only the fourteenth day of November, and already it was like Siberia out there. Idly he wondered if the Deaf Man had anything to do with it. Maybe the Deaf Man was a Russian spy. Manipulating the weather the way he manipulated everything else.
The clock on the squadroom wall read ten minutes to eight, but only one man from the graveyard shift was still there. Must’ve been a quiet night, Brown thought. ‘Cold as a witch’s tit outside,’ he said to O’Brien, who looked up from his typewriter, grunted, glanced at the wall clock and then said, ‘You had a coupla calls last night. The messages are on your desk.’
Outside the grilled squadroom windows the wind was blowing leaves and hats and newspapers and skirts and all kinds of crap all over the streets. Made a man happy to be inside. Just walking from the subway station to the precinct, Brown thought he’d freeze off all his fingers and toes. Should’ve worn his long Johns this morning. Nice and toasty in the squadroom, though. Even Miscolo’s coffee, brewing down the hallway, smelled good. He took off his mackinaw and hung it on the rack, tossing the red muffler over it. He left the blue watch cap on his head. Made him feel like Big Bad Leroy just out of Castleview, where he done time for arson, murder, and rape. Yeah, watch it, man. Cross my path today, you go home with a scar. Smiling, he sat at his desk and looked at the pile of junk the men on the graveyard shift had dumped there.
The squadroom was quiet except for the howling of the wind outside and the clacking of O’Brien’s typewriter. Brown leafed through the papers on his desk. A note from Cotton Hawes telling him that a burglary victim had called late last night to ask if Detective Brown had been able to find his stolen television set. Fat Chance Department. That television set had disappeared into the world’s biggest bargain basement. The thieves in this city, they gave you a bigger discount than if you were buying wholesale. Some thieves even stole things to order for you. Want a brand-new video cassette player? What make? RCA? Sony? See you tomorrow night this time. Coming up with that man’s stolen TV would be like finding a pot of gold in the sewer. He wondered if it was true there were alligators down there in the sewers. He once had to chase a thief down a sewer, never wanted to do that again in his life. Dripping water, rats, and a stink he couldn’t wash out of his nostrils for the next ten days.
Hawes had been complaining lately that the midnight-to-eight a.m. was ruining his sex life. His sex life these days was a lady Rape Squad cop named Annie Rawles. Brown wondered what it was like to go to bed with a Detective/First Grade. Excuse me, ma’am, would you mind unpinning your potsie, it is sticking into my arm. Six police shields. Carella had told him shield number seventy-nine had belonged to a guy named Angus McPherson, long dead and gone. So where had the Deaf Man found it? Goddamn Deaf Man, he thought again. He was looking through the other messages on his desk when the telephone rang.
‘Eighty-seventh Squad, Brown,’ he said.
‘Hello, yes,’ the voice on the other end said. A young woman. Slightly nervous. ‘May I speak to Detective Carella, please?’
‘I’m sorry, he’s not here just now,’ Brown said. ‘Should be in any minute, though.’ He looked up at the wall clock. Five minutes to eight. ‘Can I take a message for him?’
‘Yes,’ the woman said. ‘Would you tell him Naomi called?’
‘Yes, Miss, Naomi who?’ Brown said. O’Brien was on his way out of the squadroom. He waved to Brown, and Brown waved back.
‘Just tell him Naomi. He’ll know who it is.’
‘Well, Miss, we like to...’
‘He’ll know,’ she said, and hung up.
Brown looked at the telephone receiver.
He shrugged and put it back on its cradle.
Carella walked into the squadroom not three minutes later.
‘Your girlfriend called,’ Brown said.
‘I told her never to call me at the office,’ Carella said.
He looked like an Eskimo. He was wearing a short woolen car coat with a hood pulled up over his head. The hood was lined with some kind of fur, probably
rabbit, Brown thought. He was wearing leather fur-lined gloves. His nose was red, and his eyes were tearing.
‘Where’d summer go?’ he asked.