1972 - You're Dead Without Money
Page 13
Through night glasses, Orson watched with interest.
As they neared the house, Vin paused in the shade of a flowering shrub. There were lights showing on the top floor: the second floor was in darkness and a single light showed on the ground floor.
‘What gives?’ he asked. ‘What are those lights?’
‘The staff on the top floor and the stamp room on the ground floor,’ Judy told him.
He had memorized the plan she had drawn of the house, but he wanted to be sure. Pointing to the far wing of the house, he asked, ‘That’s where you are?’
‘Yes.’
Taking her arm, he walked with her across the lawn, keeping in the shadows until they reached the entrance to her rooms. She unlocked the door and they went in.
‘I want to take a look at that lock.’
She led him through a small sitting room to a lobby.
‘That’s it,’ she said and pointed.
He examined the lock and grinned.
‘Strictly for kids,’ he said. ‘Fine . . . okay, baby, I’ll get moving. See you tomorrow night, huh?’
‘Well, since you forced your way in . . . you’d better stay.’
‘No . . . the Jag out there’s too much of an ad. See you nine o’clock tomorrow night I’ll take you to the Adam and Eve club . . . okay?’
‘But it’s only eleven o’clock,’ Judy protested. ‘I’ll come with you. Let’s go to the club now.’
‘Sorry, baby . . . I’ve got business. Tomorrow, we’ll have a ball,’ and he left her.
* * *
While Vin and Judy were at the Coq d’Or restaurant, Elliot and Cindy were in the garden of the bungalow and Joey was watching TV.
Elliot had never felt more relaxed. Cindy had seen his stump and had actually cradled it in her hands and she had cried a little. By her attitude and by the way she had insisted on taking the stump in her hands Elliot now no longer felt he was some goddamn crippled freak. He knew as he had watched her he could make love to her and she would have given herself willingly, but he hesitated. He had asked her bluntly if she had ever made love and Cindy, blushing, had admitted she hadn’t.
Now, seated side by side, looking at the yellow moon, Elliot took her hand.
‘You mean a lot to me, Cindy,’ he said. ‘I believe I’m half in love with you and I get the idea it’s the same with you, but it won’t work. I’m not for you. There’s something fatal about me. I’ve never brought anyone any happiness least of all myself. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘I won’t get hurt. I love you and that’s that,’ Cindy said, not looking at him. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.’
He shook his head despondently.
‘I’ve got no future to share with you. You know something? You’re dead without money.’ He let go of her hand. ‘That may seem a crazy thing to say, but it’s true. I don’t mean that you or Joey are dead without money . . . but I am. I’ve always thought this way. Life means nothing to me without the things, the power, the service that money can buy. That’s the way I’m made. If it wasn’t for you and all the process servers after me I couldn’t have stayed in this mean little house for ten minutes. But just having you around and the thought that with luck I’ll pick up a lump of money has made it possible. When I get that money I’m going to have a final splash and it’s going to be one hell of a splash.’
‘But with a hundred thousand dollars,’ Cindy said quietly, ‘you can live well for a long time, Don. With me to help out, you could live . . .’
He laughed.
‘We’re on the wrong wave length, Cindy. I don’t want to live a long time . . . I’m tired of living . . . like ol’ man River.’ He made an impatient movement. ‘I’m talking too much. I just want you to know that after this job we’re going to say goodbye. I want you to put me right out of your mind as I intend to put you out of my mind . . . that way no one gets hurt.’
He broke off abruptly as Vin and Joey came out of the bungalow and moved towards them. Vin dropped into a nearby chair while Joey sat on the grass.
‘My part of the operation is fixed,’ Vin said. ‘I’ve got all the info I need from the chick to get at the stamps except in which drawer they’re kept. No trouble at all. The alarms can be fixed. There’s just one problem but this can also be fixed. This is where Joey pulls his weight.’
Cindy heard Vin’s voice, but she didn’t hear what he was saying. Her mind was far away, thinking of what Elliot had just said to her. She felt a pang of misery. There had been something in his quiet voice that warned her he had meant what he said. How could she ever put him out of her mind?
But if Cindy wasn’t listening, Elliot was.
‘What’s the problem?’
‘There’s a TV scanner in the stamp room,’ Vin said. ‘Judy has shown me on her plan where it is. It revolves in a semi—circle, sweeping the room, but by keeping on my hands and knees I can keep out of its range. But the snag is I have to get into the room by the door. Even if I crawl in, the guard watching the monitor would see the door open even if he didn’t see me. It’ll take me around three seconds to open the door, get into the room and then close the door. In those three seconds I could be spotted. Now the system works like this. All Security Guard scanners are hooked to monitors in their headquarters: there are around forty monitors to a room and a guard sits watching them. If he sees something on one of the monitors he doesn’t like he presses a button on the monitor that alerts a patrol car that goes at once to investigate.’
‘Never mind the system,’ Joey said uneasily. ‘Where do I come in on this?’
‘You cause a diversion.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You know the Kennedy memorial at the City Hall?’
Joey blinked.
‘Yes . . . what’s that to do with this?’
‘Once a practical joker splashed paint on it and since then it has been protected by a Security Guard scanner. The City Hall is pretty touchy about the memorial . . . it cost them a lot of dough. Now your job is to look as if you’re going to damage the statue . . . you don’t of course, but you look as if you might be going to do something. When the guard spots you on the monitor, he isn’t going to be looking at Larrimore’s monitor. If we time it to a split second, I can get the door open, get in, shut the door, get the stamps and get out again while the guard is watching you, trying to make up his mind whether to alert the patrol car or not.’ Vin looked at Elliot. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s a good idea, but it’s certainly got to be timed right.’
‘What happens to me if the cops pick me up?’ Joey asked uneasily.
‘Nothing,’ Elliot said gently. ‘You don’t have to worry about that. The way I see it: you’re on vacation. You are a Kennedy fan and you’ve got a little drunk. You want to pay a tribute to him. You have a bottle of Scotch with you. What nicer thought than to leave the bottle at the foot of the statue? Maybe the cops will treat you a little rough, but they’ll let you go once they see you’re harmless. Yes . . . it’s a great idea . . . it’ll work.’
Vin sat back, grinning.
‘You see? I’ve buttoned my end up, now it’s up to you and Cindy to button your end up. Get me the number of the drawer and I’ll get the stamps.’
‘There’s one of your buttons left undone,’ Elliot said quietly. ‘Has Judy told you the name of the buyer?’
Vin’s smug smile slipped.
‘Not yet. When I get the stamps, she’ll tell me.’
‘Can you trust her?’
Vin stiffened.
‘What does that mean?’
‘You said she wanted a thousand dollars. She could give you any name, couldn’t she?’
‘You take me for a dope? She has agreed in return for a grand to give me the letter this guy wrote to her old man offering to buy the stamps,’ Vin said hotly. ‘That covers us, doesn’t it?’
‘Suppose this buyer has changed his mind by now?’
Elliot nodded.
The following morning, a letter addressed to Cindy was in the mailbox. Joey found it and brought it to the breakfast table. All four stared at the neat writing on the envelope.
‘This is it,’ Elliot said. ‘Go ahead, Cindy . . . open it.’
Cindy shook her head.
‘You open it, Don.’
Elliot slit open the envelope, extracted a sheet of notepaper and read the few lines. His eyes lit up with excitement.
‘It’s worked! Larrimore will see you tomorrow morning at eleven!’ He tossed the letter on the table.
When they had all read it, Vin said, ‘Okay, now it’s up to you, baby. For Pete’s sake, don’t louse it up!’
‘She won’t.’ Elliot smiled at Cindy. ‘You’ve got to dress the part. Buy yourself a simple cotton dress; make yourself look as young as you can . . . fix your hair. You’re just a small time kid left something by her grandfather and you’re hoping it’s worth a fortune.’
Tense, her eyes wide, Cindy nodded.
Elliot regarded her.
‘It doesn’t scare you?’
‘No, but if he hasn’t the book on him . . .’
‘He lives with it,’ Vin broke in. ‘Judy swears he’s never without it.’
‘All right, then I can get it, but I may not have a chance to look at it. He may not leave me long enough for me to find the entry . . . that really worries me.’
‘Yes.’ Elliot nodded. ‘That’s the gamble. Let’s see if we can shorten the odds.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Suppose I telephone him while you are with him? When he answers the phone you can check the book. How’s that?’
‘But suppose I haven’t been able to get the book before you phone? You won’t know when I’ve got it.’
‘That’s right.’ Elliot reached for a cigarette while he considered this, then he snapped his fingers. ‘A walkie-talkie! Joey get one: small and powerful. Cindy has one in her bag. I’ll be waiting here with the other.’ He looked at Cindy. ‘All you have to do when you’ve got the book is to open your bag and say into it “Okay.” I’ll then call Larrimore.’
‘That’s fixed it,’ Vin said, getting to his feet. ‘Come on, Joey, I’ll drive you down town.’
When they had gone, Elliot said, ‘If you get the drawer number, Cindy, don’t tell Vin. If we tell him, we’ll have no hold on him. He could sneak out of here, get the stamps, do a deal with Larrimore’s daughter and leave us high and dry.’
‘But he must be told if he is to get the stamps.’
‘I’m going with him,’ Elliot said. ‘It’s the only way. When we get into the stamp room, I’ll take the stamps and I’ll do the selling. Do you know where he keeps his gun?’
Cindy’s eyes popped wide open.
‘No.’
‘Must be in his room.’ Elliot got up and went into Vin’s small bedroom. He found the gun after a search and he unloaded it. A further search produced a box of cartridges. ‘I’ll dump these,’ he said to Cindy who was standing in the doorway, watching him, ‘Something tells me Vin would use the gun if he was under pressure.’
‘Don . . . I wish you wouldn’t go with him. Suppose something goes wrong? Suppose you got caught?’
‘There’s no other way.’ Elliot grinned. ‘Know something? This is the first real fun I’ve ever had in my life.’
* * *
The following morning as the hands of the clock on the overmantel moved to 11.00, the three men sat around the table in the living room of the bungalow. The telephone was in front of Elliot and the walkie-talkie, switched on, by the telephone.
Early in the morning, Cindy had walked to Larrimore’s house and had tested the two-way radio which worked well. She had timed the walk and found it took her seventeen minutes from the bungalow without hurrying. Satisfied with the test, she returned to the bungalow.
Orson who was catching the early morning stint picked up Cindy’s voice and Elliot’s answering voice on his transceiver.
As Cindy had only said ‘Okay’ and Elliot had only replied ‘Hear you,’ then had switched off, Orson was puzzled.
‘They’re cooking up something,’ he said to Fay who was heating coffee. ‘I’d better alert the old man.’
‘At this time, he should love that,’ Fay said.
But Orson went to the telephone that Lessing had had laid on and called Lessing at his home. He explained what he had seen and heard.
‘Looks like they’re going to make a try tonight,’ Lessing said. ‘They wouldn’t start anything until Larrimore has gone to bed. He goes late. I’ll get the boys down there around 22.00. If they do start something, we’ll catch them as they come out.’
Now, it was approaching D-hour. Joey was pale and sweating. Vin, uneasy, couldn’t keep his eyes off the clock. Elliot seemed completely relaxed.
As the hands of the clock moved to eleven, he said, ‘She’s arrived.’
‘Suppose the punk won’t see her?’ Vin said. That would really sink us.’
‘I know Larrimore. He’ll see her. I told her not to part with the stamp album to a servant.’ Elliot looked at Joey. ‘What’s worrying you? You haven’t lost confidence in her, have you?’
Joey shook his head.
‘She’ll get the book if it’s on him, but it’s finding the drawer number . . .’ He mopped his sweating face. ‘Suppose he spots her? What would he do?’
‘He’d kick her out,’ Elliot said. ‘He wouldn’t send for the police if that’s what’s worrying you. That I’m sure of.’
That was all that was worrying Joey. The thought of his beloved Cindy being taken away by a cop made him feel ill, but Elliot’s reassuring voice helped him a lot.
The minutes crept by.
At 11.15, Vin muttered an expletive.
‘She isn’t going to get it! Now what the hell are we going to do?’
‘Shut up!’ Elliot snapped. He also found himself growing tense. ‘You don’t expect her to get it the moment she meets him, do you?’
Vin growled and lit another cigarette.
At 11.40, even Elliot was beginning to sweat. Joey was in such a state, he had to hold his handkerchief to his face while Vin was now pacing up and down the small room.
Suddenly he stopped pacing. His eyes vicious with rage, he exclaimed, ‘She’s loused it up! I never did think she would do it! She hadn’t the guts to go through with it!’
‘Shut your big mouth,’ Elliot snapped, ‘or do you want me to shut it for you?’
Vin glared at him.
‘You and who else . . . tin foot?’
As Elliot made to stand up, Joey put a restraining hand on his arm.
‘Don . . . please . . . this isn’t the time . . .’
Then clearly and distinctly, Cindy’s voice, coming from the receiver set, said, ‘Okay.’
The three men stared at each other, not quite sure if they had heard aright.
‘Did you hear that?’ Elliot demanded.
‘It was Cindy,’ Joey said.
‘Yeah.’ Vin came to the table. ‘She’s done it!’
With a slightly unsteady hand, Elliot picked up the telephone receiver and dialled Larrimore’s number. There was a delay, then a man’s voice said, ‘Mr. Larrimore’s residence.’
‘This is Don Elliot calling Mr. Larrimore.’
‘Mr. Larrimore is engaged at the moment, sir. Shall I ask him to call you back?’
‘I want to speak to him right away. Tell him I’d be obliged if he would come to the phone.’
There was more delay, then Larrimore came on the line.
Elliot recognized his voice as he said, ‘Is that you, Elliot?’
‘Hello there. I’m sorry to interrupt something. Your man said you were tied up.’
‘Yes . . . I am rather occupied. How are you, Elliot? I haven’t seen or heard from you for
months.’
At least, Elliot thought, Larrimore sounded cordial.
‘I’ve been recouping. You heard about the accident?’
‘Of course. I’m very sorry.’
‘One of those things, but I’ve now got on top of my tin foot. How about a game on Tuesday? I’ve shortened my swing and reduced my pivot and I’m playing better than ever. You might try that, Larrimore. A short swing gives you much more control.’
‘That’s an idea. Yes, let’s have a game. I’m so glad you are playing again. My congratulations. Then Tuesday at three o’clock?’
‘That’s a date.’ Elliot chitchatted about the stock market prices, determined to give Cindy all the time she needed, then finally, he hung up. He drew in a deep breath. ‘She must have got the number by now.’
It wasn’t until 12.45 that the three waiting men saw Cindy come up the garden path and they jumped to their feet and rushed to her, Elliot slightly in the lead.
She looked pale and he could see she was a little shaky, but she smiled at him as he asked, ‘Did you get it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Come on in . . . let’s hear about it,’ Elliot said, putting his arm around her. ‘Well done! I was sure you would succeed!’
‘What’s the drawer number?’ Vin demanded, crowding up behind them as they entered the sitting room.
‘She’s not telling you that, Vin,’ Elliot said and he pushed Cindy gently away from him so he faced Vin.
Joey, standing in the doorway, stared first at Cindy and then at Elliot, his eyes growing round.
‘Who says?’ Vin snarled. ‘I’ve as much right to know as you have! Get out of my way! I’ll talk to her!’
‘Relax,’ Elliot said. ‘When you give me the name of the buyer, I’ll give you the number of the drawer. Do you think we three are dopes? None of us trust you, Vin. Your double-cross isn’t going to jell.’
Vin’s eyes narrowed.
‘Double-cross? What the hell do you mean?’
‘Don’t let’s waste time. Get the name of the buyer. I’ll give you a thousand dollars for Judy. Get the name tonight then you and I will go to Larrimore’s house and get the stamps, but
I’m going to deal with the buyer.’