L is for LAWLESS

by Sue Grafton

  “What difference does it make?” Laura said. “Somehow it came up. Maybe it was karma.”

  Ray’s expression was impatient – he didn’t buy that for a minute – but he made that rolling hand gesture that said “Let’s get on with it.”

  “I’m not going to keep talking if you act like that. Ray,” she said primly. “You asked for my side and that’s what I’m trying to tell you, okay?”

  “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. But let me ask you this…”

  “I’m not saying I know all the details,” she interjected.

  “I understand that. I’m just asking about the logic. Listen, in the gospel according to Gilbert – if what he says is true – then how come I spent forty years in prison? If I blew the whistle, I’d have made a deal. I never would have served a day. Or I’d have pled down and done county jail time just to make it look good.”

  Laura was silent, and I could see her struggling to come up with an explanation that made sense. “I don’t really know. He never went into that.”

  “Well, think about it.”

  “I know Gilbert never served much time,” she said tentatively.

  “Yeah, but he was seventeen. He was still a juvenile and this was his first offense. Johnny always figured it was the younger McDermid, Darrell. Frank was too much of a stand-up guy. Darrell was the one who testified against us in court and ended up doing less than a year himself. You want to know why? Because he turned us in and in exchange they let him plead down to some lesser charge. Gilbert wants to blame me because the little fuck is greedy and wants to justify picking off all the loot for himself. By the way, you haven’t said, are you two married?”

  “We live together.”

  “You live together. That’s nice. A year, couple years?”

  “About that,” she said.

  “Don’t you have any idea what he’s like?”

  Laura said nothing. Judging from the bruises, she knew plenty about Gilbert. “I don’t believe he lied. You’re the liar.”

  “Why don’t you reserve judgment until you hear my side of it?”

  I held a hand up. “Uh, Ray? Am I going to be surprised by what comes next? Is this going to be like big news and piss me off?”

  His smile was sheepish. “Why?”

  “Because I’m just wondering how many versions of the story you tell. This is number three, by my count.”

  “This is it. Last one. Swear to God.”

  I glanced at Laura. “The man does lie through his teeth, or what’s left of them.”

  “I haven’t lied,” he said. “I might have failed to mention a couple things.”

  “A shoot-out with the cops? What else have you failed to mention? I’d be fascinated,” I said.

  “I can do without the sarcasm.”

  “I can do without the bullshit! You said Gilbert was a former cellmate.”

  “I had to tell you something,” he said. “Come on. This is not easy. I kept my mouth shut forty years. Johnny Lee and I swore we’d never give anything away. The problem is, he died without giving me some vital information.”

  “I’m going to get comfortable,” I said. I leaned over and pulled the pillows out from under the bedspread and propped them up against the headboard, kicking my shoes off before I settled into place. This was like a bedtime story, and I didn’t want to miss it.

  “You comfy?” he said.

  “I’m terrific.”

  “Johnny dreamed up this scheme and talked me into going in with him. You have to understand a little background on this. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “If you’re going to tell the truth for a change, take your time,” I said.

  Ray got to his feet and began to pace. “I’m trying to think how far back to go. Let’s try this. Ohio River flooded in the winter of 1937. I guess it started raining sometime in January and the river just kept going up. Eventually, there was something like twelve thousand acres underwater all up and down the Ohio River valley. At the time, Johnny was in state reformatory down in Lexington. Well, the inmates began to riot. Sixty of them busted out of there, and Johnny Lee was one. He gets as far as Louisville and disappears in the confusion. He starts helping with flood relief.” He paused, looking from Laura to me. “Just be patient,” he said. “Because you have to understand how this scheme was set up in the first place.”

  “Fine with me,” she said.

  He looked at me.

  “Go right ahead,” I said.

  “Okay. Anyway, thousands of volunteers poured into the city. And nobody asked questions. From what Johnny told me, you pitched in, nobody cared who you were or where you came from. So he’s rowing through the west end, saving people off of rooftops. The water’s up to the second story in most places – I’ve seen pictures of this – as high as traffic lights. Damnedest thing you’ve ever seen. Johnny made this boat out of four barrels and some crates and he’s paddling right down the middle of the street. He had the time of his life. He even stuck around afterwards and helped with the cleanup, which is how he dreamed up this heist.

  “Lot of buildings collapsed. I mean, the whole downtown was underwater for weeks on end, and when the river receded they put crews in there repairing anything that got broke. Johnny was smart. He knew all kinds of things. He told them he’d done construction, so they put him to work. Anyway, while he’s crawling around this basement one day, he realizes he’s looking at the underside of a bank. Electrical power’s been out for days, so a lot of storm sewers have broken and all this water’s flowing past the foundation. There’s this crack up the wall that he’s supposed to fix. He puts together this patch job wouldn’t fool a pro, but there’s no one around. Everybody’s too busy to pay attention to him. So he tells ‘em it’s fixed when he hasn’t done a thing except cover it up.

  He even signs off the inspection with forged signatures. I mean, it’s not like there was anyone to double-check his work.

  “By the time the two of us meet up… this is now four years later. Back then, big vaults were poured in place, using number five rebar, which is five-eighths diameter, four inches on center, several layers offset. Understand, it’s not like I’m the expert. I learned all of this from him. This particular vault was constructed during the Depression – some kind of public works project – so you can imagine how well it was put together in the first place. Vault like that, you can force entry if you got the tools and the time. He said it had always been at the back of his mind, but he knew he needed help once it came time, which is where I come in.

  “Johnny starts working on the foundation with this masonry bit. Nights and weekends, he goes in through the basement of the building next door and attacks the substructure. It probably takes him a month, but he’s finally right up against the floor of the vault. Nowadays, this shit is all done with high-tech equipment, but in the old days, a successful bank job was the result of pure grit and hard work. It took patience and skill. Johnny figured the alarm system was tougher than the vault. At that point, we had to bring in some other guys because we needed the help. Johnny’d apprenticed with a locksmith, so he’d studied all the manuals and knew the specs by heart, but we needed an alarm man to dismantle the alarms. I’d been in jail with a guy I thought we could trust. That was Donnie Hays, and he brought in his brother, Gilbert. Like she said, Donnie’s dead now and Gilbert I got to thank for this.” He held up his bruised and bandaged hand.

  I saw Laura’s focus shift, and she exchanged a look with me. It apparently hadn’t occurred to her before that Gilbert had done the damage to Ray Rawson’s face.

  “Johnny pulled in another couple of guys named McDermid. I think they were cousins he’d done some time with down in Lexington. Donnie Hays defeated the alarm, and we went to work with the torches and the sledgehammers, pounding away like crazy until we finally busted through. Johnny started drilling safe-deposit boxes while the rest of us set to work, cleaning out the loot while he popped the boxes and dumped the contents.”

  “Wait a min
ute. Who’s Farley? How does he fit into this?” I asked.

  “Gilbert’s nephew,” Laura replied. “The three of us came out to the coast together.”

  “Oh. Sorry to interrupt. Go ahead.”

  “Anyway, we had us a regular bucket brigade, tossing cash and jewelry out of safe-deposit boxes, stuffing the goodies into canvas bags, then hand over hand down through the hole and out to the car waiting in the alley. We’re working like dogs and everything seems to be going as planned until suddenly the cops show up and all hell breaks loose. This gun battle breaks out, in the course of which Frank McDermid and Donnie Hays were both killed, along with this cop. I was hot-blooded in those days, and I fired the shot that killed the cop. Gilbert was captured and so was Darrell McDermid. I heard later Darrell died in some accident, but I never had that confirmed.”

  “You and Johnny weren’t captured?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not then. Me and him escaped, but we knew it was only a matter of time before they caught us. We were desperate, sitting on this stash, anxious to find a safe place for it before the cops closed in. We decided to split up. Johnny said he had the perfect place to hide the dough, but he figured it was better if only one of us knew. I’d have trusted him with my life. He swore he wouldn’t lay a hand on it until we were both free to enjoy it. We went our separate ways, and by the time we got picked up he was empty-handed. The cops beat the shit out of him, trying to find out where he’d hidden the take, but he never would say. Ended up he confessed to the crime, but he never told anyone what happened to the money. The irony was, it was the cops’ beating a confession out of him that got his conviction thrown out.

  “Meantime, we both suspected Darrell was the one who blew the whistle on us. Like I said, after we were picked up, he testified against us in court. He swore up and down it wasn’t him turned us in, trying to lay blame off on his brother, Frank. Me and Johnny both got twenty-five years to life, but Johnny’s conviction was overturned on appeal.

  He went home to his family while I’m sitting on my butt down in the U.S. Penitentiary in Atlanta, Georgia. Johnny went back later and removed enough from the stash to support himself and my ma, who’s still back in Kentucky.” He indicated her belly. “That’s what’s left.”

  “Wait a minute. What makes you so sure it’s eight grand?”

  “Because he told me how much he took and what he spent since then. I did the math and figured what the balance was.”

  “Where’s the rest?”

  “Well, you know. I guess it’s still where it was.”

  I stared at him. “I hope you’re not going to tell me he died without revealing where he hid it.”

  Ray shrugged uneasily. “That’s about it.”

  Chapter 12

  *

  Laura moaned and leaned forward as if she were on the verge of fainting. She tried to get her head down between her knees, but the bulk of her belly thwarted her. She leaned sideways against the bed pillows, pulling her knees up to her chest like a kid with a stomachache.

  “What’s wrong?” Ray asked.

  “Oh God, I thought there’d be more. I thought you knew where it was,” she whispered, beginning to weep again. I’m a hardhearted little thing. I sat there wondering why crying is occasionally referred to as boo-hooing. I’ve never heard weepers use syllables even remotely related.

  Ray moved over and sat beside her. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head, rocking back and forth.

  “Laura’s fine,” I said, bored. I was aware my tone was rude, but I knew what she was up to, and the girlish tears were annoying. Ray rubbed her back, patting her shoulder in a series of ineffectual moves that, nevertheless, conveyed his compassion and concern. “Hey, come on. That’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help. I promise. Don’t cry.”

  “Excuse me, Ray, but you might want to be discreet. She’s already busy double-crossing Gilbert, and she’s supposedly in love with him. No telling what she does to people she doesn’t give a shit about. Uh, such as us, in case you missed the point,” I said.

  He looked at her, his brow furrowing. “Is that right? Are you trying to get away from him?”

  “By sticking it to us” I said caustically. Neither paid attention. I could have saved my breath.

  I handed her another wad of tissues, and she went through the whole nose-blowing routine again. She pressed a tissue to her eyes, damming the leak of tears. She launched into a fragmented explanation, but she couldn’t quite manage it, and I was left to translate. I said, “She and Farley have joined forces. She’s absconding with the money. This is just a guess on my part.”

  “You and Farley decided to pull a fast one?” he asked. He was trying to sound calm, but I could tell he was seriously alarmed. He knew Gilbert well enough to guess the depth of trouble she was in. She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Jesus, baby. I wish I’d known what you were up to. That’s really not a good plan.”

  “I can’t help it. Farley loves me. He said he’d help. He knows Gilbert beats me. I have to get away before he kills me dead.”

  “I understand, hon, but Gilbert is a lunatic. He’s not going to like that. If he finds out, I hate to think what he’ll do to get even. Come on now and let’s talk. Maybe we can figure out a way to get you out of this.”

  I loved his use of the word “we.”

  She sighed and sat up. Without the anchor of makeup, her eyes looked like they’d shifted upward half an inch on her face. Her nose was stopped up and her voice had dropped into a lower range. Her complexion was a mottled pink, and her hazel eyes seemed vivid against the dark red of her hair. The dark green corduroy juniper was hopelessly wrinkled, and the collar of her white turtleneck was streaked with foundation. “I don’t know what I was thinking of. I just had to get away.” She pulled her sleeve up. “Look at that. I’m black and blue. I look worse than you do, only this has been going on for months.”

  “You have to get away from him. No question about that. Why’d you put up with it?”

  “Because I didn’t have any choice. I’ve been to shelters for battered women. Twice, I’ve hidden out with friends. Somehow he always finds me and brings me back. Now he makes sure I don’t get close to anyone. I have to account for my every minute. He won’t let me work. He won’t let me have a nickel of my own. When I saw this coming up, I knew it was the only chance I’d ever have. I thought if I just had money. If I just had a way to get away from him…”

  “Then take the money,” he said. “It’s yours. I couldn’t believe it when Kinsey mentioned your name. You can ask her. I was stunned….”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘stunned,’ but he did get real quiet.”

  “I had no idea you were involved in this,” he went on.

  “What difference would that have made?” she said, blowing her nose. She seemed comforted by the fact that she’d surprised him somehow.

  “I never would have come. I’d have let you have the eight grand. That’s what I’m saying. It’s yours. You take it. It’s a gift.”

  “Forget that. I don’t want it.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t have any choice.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll talk to Farley. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Laura, don’t be crazy. You were willing enough to take it before. Why not now?”

  She turned on him harshly. “I was willing to take it because I thought you betrayed your friends to get it. I thought it served you right. I didn’t think you deserved to have it after what you did.”

  I was getting irritated by the melodrama, wishing they’d get on with it. “Why don’t you split the money and put an end to the argument?”

  Ray shook his head. “We don’t have to split it. She can have the whole eight grand. I can always go back to Louisville and look for the rest.”

  “What are your chances of finding it after forty years?” I as
ked.

  “Probably not that good, but I’d feel better knowing she had enough to get away.”

  “Ray, I said I’d handle it and I will,” she said.

  “Why don’t you let me do something?”

  “It’s too late.”

  He turned to me, his look bewildered. “You talk to her. You tell her. I don’t understand where she’s coming from.”

  I said, “Here’s the deal, Ray, and you can trust me on this. She wants your love. She wants approval. She wants you to beg forgiveness for what you’ve put her through all her life. She doesn’t want to have anything else to do with you. She certainly doesn’t want your help. She’d rather die first.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she doesn’t want to owe you anything,” I snapped.

  He looked back at her. “Is that right, what she said?”

  “I don’t know. I guess.” She paused to wipe her eyes and blow her nose again. “I thought there’d be more. I thought you’d have millions. I was counting on it.”

  “There never was millions. Is that what Gilbert said?”

  “How do I know? That’s what he talked about for years,” she said. “Maybe, in his mind, the money grew as time passed. The point is, eight thousand dollars isn’t going to get me any place. I pictured going to a foreign country, holing up someplace, but how long is eight thousand dollars going to last?”

  “It’ll last long enough. Go to another state.

  Change your name. Find work. At least the eight grand will help you get set up.”

  Laura’s face was filled with despair. “He’ll find me. I know he will. I thought I had a chance with Farley, but now I’m worried sick.”

  “Where’s Farley all this time?” I asked.

  “He’s in Santa Teresa with Gilbert. We didn’t want him to get suspicious.”

  I raised my hand. “Wait a minute. I’m confused. What was the original plan?”

  “When I left Santa Teresa? I was supposed to fly to Palm Beach, Florida, where Gilbert had a buddy waiting. This is some pal he hired to keep an eye on me. Gilbert wanted to get the money out of California as soon as possible, but he thought we’d be too conspicuous if the three of us traveled together. Besides, he and Farley had to wait until their passports came through. I already had mine, so I was supposed to wait in Palm Beach and they’d join me. Later, we’d fly to Rio.”